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LIFE 

ADVENTURES, STRANGE CAREER 



AND 



ASSASSINATION 



O F 



Col. James Fisk. Jr. 



THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

ALL ABOUT 
MISS M^IfcTSiFIEILIX 

There is a tide in the affairs of woman 

Which taken at the flood leads on, 

God knows where. Byron. 



■ 

THOSE RICH, RARE, AND RACY LETTERS, 

"Gone where the woodbine twineth," 
AKD MANY ODDITIES NOW FOR THE FIRST TIME MADE PUBLIC 













s, 


PHILADELPHIA: 






\J 


UBLISHED 


BY BARCLAY 


& 


CO 


■> 




No, 


21 North 8eventh Street. 


















Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, bjr 

BARCLAY & CO., 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. 0. 






THE EISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 



LIFE OF JAMES FISK, JR. 



The Press of this country has, since the decease of James Fisk, Jr., 
been particularly severe in its remarks upon his life and death. Such 
epithets as thief, swindler, etc., have been freely used in articles concern- 
ing his eventful career. 

Many of those articles were unjust, and even untruthful. Not giving 
him credit for the thousand and one good, kind acts of his life, these 
journals seemed to compete with each other in heaping and spreading 
before the world's eye all that was bad, much that had existence but in 
the " mind's eye" of the writer's imagination, and much that wanted even 
the semblance of truth. 

Fisk was a man of quick, we may say intuitive perception. "Nothing 
venture, nothing win," was his motto, and he acted out its meaning fully 
in all his plans and dealings with his fellow- men. No man in New York 
city, probably in the country, had more to contend against than he. The 
victim of petty and intricate lawsuits, a mark for "blackmailers," an 
object of every day envy. Greater rogues than James FLsk, Jr., now 
walk the streets of Ne,w York city — of all our cities — and at night sleep 
in marble palaces, and again are seen among our congressmen — yes even 
congressmen themselves. Such men as these were the natural prey of 
Fisk ; he made them his study, and the robbers were robbed. We can 
find in his life no mean action, such as we surely can in the lives of those 
who (many of them) to the rising generation are held up as shining 
examples. But of this enough. 

Born in a cabin of the Green Mountain State, of parents the modesty 
of whose resources have been well understood, whatever is believed of the 
integrity of their lives, and shot down beneath the roof of a marble 
palace by an ancient partner in revels if not in crime, the career of James 
Fisk, Jr., so varied and wonderful, was interrupted by a startling act, not 
wholly out of keeping with the strange drama of his life. In that event- 
ful history there were many strange scenes, and though the most remark- 
able of them have been enacted in a few years, there has been no period 
of his life, from his native cabin to his acquired palaces, which is not 

19 



SO THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

full of incidents next to impossible under any other civilization than 
our own. 

A pedler, he was the son of a Vermont pedler, but before adopting the 
profession of his father he saw life and acquired manners and experience 
by making the grand tour of the States — not indeed as those who occupy 
as much of men's thoughts in other countries, as he did in this, are 
accustomed to travel in their youth. He was satisfied to travel with the 
wandering menagerie of Van Amburgh in the more than humble position 
of a caretaker, whose highest occupation was to erect the tents and clean 
out the filthy cages of the wild animals. His employer recognizing his 
tact advanced him to the somewhat more elevated position of ticket-seller, 
and as such he travelled with Van Amburgh for eight years. When 
twenty-five years of age he returned to his father's town, Brattleboro, Vt v 
and became a pedler. His first speculations were not very remarkable. 
One biographer is authority for the fact that they were confined to the 
sale of pencils and pens on the sidewalks of the streets of different Ver- 
mont towns. Subsequently he rose to that point of success which is 
marked by a horse and wagon. 

This enabled him to invest in a higher class of goods and to make 
more rapid and extensive excursions. Associated with his father, they 
soon extended their trade through New England and Western New York. 
Their principle was to sell excellent articles at moderate prices. Every- 
where the advent of the future financier was hailed by the ladies of New 
England, who, with the canniness of their section and the taste of their 
sex, sought prudent purchases. He endeavored to supply a handsome 
material at a possible profit, and far-and-wide the fame of the Fisks, senior 
and junior, travelled as that of trustworthy merchants. The Boston 
wholesale house from which he made his purchases thought they had 
found a likely salesman in James junior, and as a good thing for their 
house offered him a partnership. If it was^ goodr for them it might be 
equally so for him, and he accepted. On the whole his surmise was 
correct ; it was a very much better engagement for him than for them. 

After some difficulties, which were tided over by prudent war contracts 
made by him, one of which was the sale of some Southern cotton at 
$1.80 per pound, the house of Jordan, Marsh & Co. offered him $64,000 
for his interest in their establishment. Boston was not quite the place 
for his energy, and, not unlike many another Massachusetts Archimedes, 
he thought he could shake the Western world if he could but control the 
fulcrum, New York. Marsh's money and his own savings woi Id give 
him a start, and he closed with this offer. Delaying for a time in Boston, 
but not with much success, he at last came from the Massachusetts Man- 
tua to the great metropolis. Men come to New York every day and 
many go to Wall street, but, as Mr. Fisk said, somewhat profoundly, it 
must be admitted, last August, "It is not evary man that goes in who 
wins ; " and Mr. Fisk was one of those men who, visiting New YoHt, 



LIFE OF JAMES FISK, JR. %1 

went in in Wall street and came out a loser. He is understood to have 
registered a sincere vow that as " Wall street had ruined him, Wall street 
should pay for it." Empty boast for a penniless and unsuccessful adven- 
turer, but stiJl one which neither his failure nor his destitution prevented 
him carrying out to the fullest extent of his prediction. 

Knowing that Daniel Drew was interested in the purchase of the 
Bristol line of steamers, he sought his acquaintance and became his in- 
strument in the purchase of that flotilla. "Dan'l" recognized Jim's 
ability, and thought he would give him a chance, and the firm of Fisk & 
Behl en did much for Daniel on the street. Fisk rapidly acquired a for- 
tune, and in an inconceivably short space of time from the period of his 
complete failure, he put together a larger bank account th an ever. For 
good or ill this sealed Jim's devotion to Wall street, if he ever seriously 
purposed leaving it. When in October, 1867, the great Erie contest 
between the Vanderbilt-Eldridge parties and Drew resulted in the defeat 
of the old Commodore, there appeared the now famous, but then little 
known, names of Jay Gould and James Fisk, Jr., among the Erie direc- 
tors. Before the close of the winter Vanderbilt had moved on the lines 
of his enemies, and by a liberal use of that judicial artillery which dis- 
tributes injunctions with the rapidity of a mitrailleuse, he compelled 
Daniel Drew to retire from the treasury and directory of the company. . 

And here let us relate how Fisk once beat Vanderbilt. Vanderbilt 
had grown jealous of Fisk, and determined to crush him. The readiest 
way to do that, he thought, would be by destroying the business of the 
Erie railroad. With this end in view he issued an order lowering the 
rates on freight from Chicago, and asked Erie to do likewise. Fisk 
assented, and cattle were consequently brought from the West in great 
numbers and at small cost. By special agreement the rates on Vander- 
bilt's line and Fisk's were made uniform. After a few weeks, however, 
Vanderbilt showed his hand. Giving the Erie officers short notice, he 
broke faith with Fisk, and announced that for twenty days the freight on 
the Central Kailroad for cattle from Chicago would be $1.50 per head 
instead of $4. He expected to crush Erie by this move, but he reckoned 
without Fisk. The latter made no alteration on the rate on the Erie 
road, but quietly directed his agent in the West to purchase 40,000 head 
of cattle and send them by Vanderbilt's route. The cattle were soon 
purchased, and Fisk had the pleasure of seeing Vanderbilt carrying 
freight for him for less than the cost of running the trains. Of course 
the Commodore soon grew tired of fighting against such odds, and the 
rates were again raised to those of the Erie. Fisk cleared $100,000 by 
this transaction, direct from the Central. But this was not the full extent 
of the damage done the Commodore. When the Central was blocked 
with Fisk's ^0,000 head of cattle, the Erie was open and carrying other 
freight at its own rates. 

But to return to the former thread of our narrative. Fisk and Gould 



22 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

having obtained control of $10,000 of stock, reduced the value of Erie 
stock from 72 to 36J, Mr. Fisk making on the operation, it is understood, 
no less than $1,300,000. But this was not done altogether without risk. 
In one of those gushing effusions which his heart poured forth from his 
retreat in Jersey City — whither he had retired from the inhospitable 
State of New York — to that amiable and accomplished friend whom he 
familiarly addressed as "Lumpsum," he declared it was a question of a 
palace in New York, or a jail cell in Sing Sing. The dice turned in his 
favor, and three years of palaces and titles were given him. From his 
exile across the river an act of the New York Legislature legalizing his 
little games released him, and the man whose influence passed it through 
the Legislature took a seat at the board of direction. They were fast 
friends thenceforward, and one of the men at his bedside on Saturday 
night was William M. Tweed. Mr. Fisk now was in every one's mouth. 
Knowing the value of notoriety, to one whose public character was 
always tinged by a certain degree of charlatanism, he did much to keep 
himself there. Like Alcibiades he doubtless thought that if the modern 
Athenians of New England and New York had trifles to fix their atten- 
tion on, he might escape attention in matters where notoriety was not 
desirable. He did many things which can best be explained on this 
theory. 

Perhaps one of these was the imprisonment of Samuel Bowles at an 
inconvenient hour of the night in Ludlow Street Jail on a charge of libel. 
Still there may have been a momentary bitterness, which a man of Mr. 
Fisk's weaknesses in certain respects might have experienced on reading 
the stinging article in the Republican which provoked the abortive suit. 
There were in it sneers at his size as compared with his breadth ; at his 
rolling gait, at "his nervous energy, stimulated rather than deadened by 
his fat, which gives, indeed, a momentum to his mental movement and 
personal influence." 

But there were severer things in it than that he was " fair, fat, and 
forty." It was said of him that he, the " hero of the hour," " had great 
capacity now, great wealth, and certainly great notoriety ; all these he 
can make most useful to himself and his country ; it is a pity they should 
be wasted in destruction alike of character, and of values when the 
country needs them all and will reward them so generously in measures 
of construction. Many even of his friends predict for him either the 
State Prison or the lunatic asylum; his father is already in the latter," 
and so forth. Probably of this character were his theatrical investments 
— though doubtless the old passion of spectacle producing which in his 
eight years of showman life had sunk deep into him, tempted him to this 
in no small degree. 

In 1869 New York was startled and London amazed at the news that 
the speculator in Erie had become the owner and manager of an opera 
house. Pike's Opera House and adjacent property was purchased by 



LIFE OF JAMES FISK, JR. 25 

him for $820,000. He renamed it the Grand Opera House, leased a por- 
tion of it for offices to the Erie Eailroad Company at the rental of 
$75,000 per annum, for nineteen years. lie lavished money on its theatre 
in a wonderful manner, doing many really meritorious things to raise it 
to a first-class place of amusement. He made it his own headquarters as 
treasurer of the Erie Railroad. Its history since it came into his posses- 
sion cannot now be written, but many were the strange scenes which 
common report has placed at this railroad theatre. No drama ever re- 
presented on its boards approached the realities of its off the stage 
life. One famous scene there was the personal rencontre between him- 
self and one of his agents, Mr. Maretzek. Besides this establishment, 
which was to some extent his club-house, he absorbed the Academy of 
Music, the Fifth Avenue Theatre, etc., etc. After his purchase of the 
Grand Opera House, he began gradually to become known as " Prince 
of Erie," and no aspirant to the foundation of a dynasty could have more 
sedulously inscribed his monogram, "J. F., Jr.," on its works than did 
this Vermont pedler. 

But it was in September, 1869, that Fisk reached his climax and had 
almost toppled over. In the March of that year there was a gentleman 
known not to be very wealthy, and suspected of not being very scrupulous 
about acquiring money, advanced to a position which, as it was the high- 
est in the nation, it is needless to say was one of some influence. That 
influence Mr. Fisk sought to use in the speculations which culminated in 
the disaster of Black Friday, September 24, 1869. Few doubt that it 
was promised ; there are fewer who are ignorant of how it was with- 
drawn. Mr. Fisk had the honor of entertaining the Chief Magistrate of 
the nation on his magnificent Sound steamers, and of dead-heading him 
over his railroad to the Boston jubilee. He had the advantage of "see- 
ing " the President's brother-in-law, and of arranging little speculations 
for the President's wife. The result of many manoeuvres was that gold 
was locked up, and on September 24, its price had passed 160. Men 
were crazed and men were ruined, but fortunes were not made, for few 
could pay their losses. How Mr. Fisk escaped from what is undei stood 
to have been the failure of his corner no one can tell, unless, perhaps, 
those who attach importance to his subsequent disavowal of the transac- 
tions of his brokers. He survived the struggle, and immediately re-en- 
gaged in his old career of financial speculations, legal prosecutions, 
theatrical enterprises, and others which did not bring him quite as much 
profit as reputation. 

His struggles in the courts and in the Legislature for legal possession, 
and even on the very lines of road for the material possession of rail- 
roads of the country are even more familiar to the public than his trans- 
actions in opera bouffe or spectacular drama. It was only the other day 
that one of the lawyers employed in one of the interminable suits of the 
Erie Company declared that every one connected with it was heartily 



it THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

sick of it — but then over $400,000 spent in law fees is an agreeable 
coating to the bitterest law pill a lawyer ever swallowed. His contests 
on behalf of his copartners in the Erie business have been uniformly so 
much in his favor that the foreign stockholders are looking on the future 
satisfaction of their claims as too remote to hope for. 

A short time since they received the intelligence that the new Attorney- 
General of the State, Mr. Barlow, would prosecute their claims. Besides 
his operatic, legal, financial and social successes, Mr. Fisk had aspirations 
to military and naval honors. Already an Admiral of the Sound and 
Long Branch fleets, he sought a military command. The Colonelcy of 
the Ninth Kegiment of the National Guard was tendered to him, and he 
accepted it. By a lavish expenditure of money he soon raised it to a 
high grade of merit, and it was known everywhere for its fine uniform, 
well-trained band, and wonderful Colonel. At Long Branch, even at 
Boston, whither it went rather against the wish of the municipal author- 
ities, and elsewhere it became very famous. It will be remembered that 
it took an active part in the shooting business of July 12, 1871, and that 
two of its privates were shot. Its Colonel's exploits on that day are not 
yet forgotten. His wounds "invalided" him at Long Branch for some 
time afterwards. Some have credited him with political aspirations. He 
certainly appeared at Tammany Hall and made a speech, but his appear- 
ance on the platform was the signal for the immediate retreat therefrom 
of the prominent Democrat who presided as chairman. 

The story of the elder Kothschild's journey from Brussels to London 
after he had been assured of the overthrow of Napoleon at Waterloo, 
and of his immense and successful speculations there in consequence, is 
well known. But James Fisk, Jr., conceived and executed an equally 
brilliant stroke at the close of our war of the rebellion, the particulars 
of which, we think, have never yet been published. With that sagacity 
which distinguished him in all his career Fisk saw that when, on the 2d 
of April, 1865, General Lee was driven from Petersburg, his surrender 
could not be far distant. 

A BRILLIANT IDEA. 

He immediately went to Boston, consulted with some of his financial 
friends, and made them partners in his scheme. This was to get the news 
of the surrender of Lee and collapse of the confederacy for use on 
'Change in London in advance of the mail. It will be remembered that 
the Atlantic cable was not then laid. A small, swift steamer, formerly a 
blockade runner, was purchased, fitted out and sent to Halifax in ballast. 
¥either the captain nor officers of the steamer knew her destination. 
The secret of her mission was solely confided to an agent of Fisk, who 
was the only passenger on board. 

Steam was kept up day and night, and everything was in readiness for 
a start across the Atlantic, Days went by, and still the steamer lay 



LIFE OF JAMES FISK, JR. 27 

quietly in the harbor of Halifax, awaiting the expected message from 
Fisk. At length it came. If James Fisk, Jr., had tried his best he could 
not have indited a shorter despatch. It was dated at Boston, signed Fisk, 
and contained but one word — 

"go!" 

The blockade runner started for Queenstown immediately, and got there 
two days ahead of the mail steamer. The agent speeded across Ireland 
to London and commenced his operations. Before twenty-four hours 
elapsed he sold " short" (that is, sold what he had not got) $5,000,000 in 
Confederate bonds. He had orders from Fisk to sell as long as he could 
get buyers, but was restrained by a partner of one of the Boston men, 
who was cursed with prudence. But the operation was pretty successful ; 
the "syndicate" divided between $3,000,000 and $4,000,000, the proceeds 
of the " speculation." This was a lift for James Fisk, Jr., which was 
very welcome. 

THE MORSE FAMILY. 

The Morse family, whom Mr. Fisk called to visit on the fatal day, were 
old and intimate friends of his family. They came from Europe last 
spring, where they had passed the previous five years, while the eldest 
Miss Morse was completing her education. They spent the summer at 
Long Branch, and, with Mr. Fisk's father, mother, sister and brother-in- 
law, formed his party of friends at the Continental. He seemed to look 
upon the young ladies as his daughters, and the feeling between them and 
Mr. Fisk's relatives was very cordial. Upon returning to the city they 
repaired to their residence, in Thirty-fourth street, where they remained 
until recently, when they engaged rooms at the Grand Central Hotel for 
the winter. There Mr. Fisk frequently called upon them, always sending 
his card to their room and paying his respects in the public parlor. He 
would occasionally escort the ladies to the theatre or opera, being almost 
always accompanied by the male members of the family. It was to the 
mother of Mrs. Morse that the deceased was -indebted for so much of his 
early success. She rendered him pecuniary assistance, and even in late 
years, when in business in Wall street, she was able to be of pecuniary 
service. 

THE INTIMACY BETWEEN THE FAMILIES 

began years ago, when Mr. Fisk was in business in Boston. Whenever 
he and his wife came to the city they were constant visitors at Mr. Morse's 
residence. Nearly ten years ago the dead Colonel was in business with 
Mr. Morse's brothers, one of the latter dying during, their copartnership. 
Not only did Mr. and Mrs. Fisk visit the Morses years ago, but while 
engaged with Messrs. Jordan & Marsh in business in Boston, the families 
of both these gentlemen paid frequent visits to the home of Mr. Moise in 



M THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

New York. It was thus that the old friendship was continued during Mr. 
Fisk's prosperity, and he never forgot the kindness that was done him 
while poor in the days of his success and wealth. It was but a short 
time ago that Mr. Fisk stated to a friend publicly how deeply he was 
indebted to the Morse family for much of his early success, and his re- 
membrance of the younger members in his will is but an evidence of the 
gratitude with which he repaid kindness with kindness. Mr. Morse's son 
was employed by Mr. Fisk for a number of years, and even at the Colo- 
nel's death he was perfecting business arrangements for him. It will thus 
be seen that the friendship between Mr. Fisk and the Morse family was 
of the most cordial and disinterested kind, and that his visits to them at 
their hotel were prompted by the purest motives*. 

MRS. MANSFIELD AND HER CONNECTION WITH FISK AND STOKES. 

In the Fall of 1867, Mrs. Mansfield (who had just obtained a divorce 
from her husband, Frank Lawlor, an actor well known throughout the 
country, through the kind intervention of Lawyer " M. House ") had been 
endeavoring to maintain herself by appearing as an actress in subordinate 
parts in theatres, but with very poor success. At this time she became 
acquainted with Miss Annie Wood, an actress, still living in New York, 
according to whose statement Mrs. Mansfield requested an introduction to 
Mr. Fisk, saying that she had not a single change of clothes, and she had 
nothing to live upon but her handsome face, and she must make the most 
of it. Miss Wood gave her the introduction, though, as she says, with 
some reluctance ; and meeting her shortly afterwards, Mrs. Mansfield, 
according to Miss Wood, stated that her circumstances had very much 
improved, and she had now plenty of good things; that she meant to get 
all the money she could out of Fisk, and then let him go, as he was not 
really the kind of man she fancied. But before this introduction Mrs. 
Mansfield's friends had appealed to Mr. Fisk's sympathies on her behalf, 
claiming that she was a worthy actress laboring under difficulties, and he 
sent her several sums of money before he had ever seen her, and when 
he had n® expectation or desire of becoming acquainted with her. She 
very soon after her introduction obtained a strong hold upon Mr. Fisk, 
and early in 1868 he provided a house for her on Twenty-fourth street, 
and for more than two years defrayed all her expenses. The origin of 
her story about stock speculations is said to be, that one night in the fall 
of 1868 a few gentlemen meeting at her house played cards with one 
another, and agreed to make her a present of all their winnings, which 
amounted to some $2500. This money Mr. Fisk advised her to let one 
of the party take and invest in Eries, which he knew was certainly bound 
to rise the next day. She did so, and the money being invested, as a 
margin, the entire amount realized, which, including the original invest- 
ment, was about $15,000, was paid over to Mrs. Mansfield two or three 
days afterwards by the gentleman who had managed the speculation. 



LIFE OF JAMES FISK, JR. 29 

This money Mrs. Mansfield invested in government bonds until Mr. Fisk 
purchased a house for her in Twenty-third street, when she sold out the 
bonds and deposited the proceeds in the hands of Mr. Fisk, who gave her 
the receipt which he has published for $15,578. When the deed was 
ready for execution he paid out this money and a little over $4000 more 
to the seller of the house, the price of the house being $40,000, subject 
to a mortgage of $20,000. He then spent $10,000 more in improvements 
upon the house. From this time forward Mrs. Mansfield was entirely 
dependent upon Mr. Fisk, who paid all her bills and kept her constantly 
supplied with money, although he refused to make any permanent settle- 
ment upon her, which was a point upon which she greatly insisted, and 
on account of the refusal to grant which she on one or two occasions 
pretended to leave him, although she very speedily returned. Becoming 
acquainted with Edward S. Stokes, she gradually formed a preference for 
him, and used to telegraph him to come down to the house on occasions 
when Mr. Fisk was in Boston. Discovering this fact, Mr. Fisk naturally 
complained, and many recriminations occurred, with occasional recon- 
ciliations, which, however, were immediately followed by fresh amours 
with Mr. Stokes. Mr. Fisk left the house, and some correspondence 
ensued between the parties, which was afterwards surrendered by Mr. 
Stokes as the basis of a settlement between himself and Mr. Fisk. 



THE FEELING THROUGHOUT THE COUNTRY. 

The news of the assassination was flashed to every part of the country, 
and created a profound and startled impression among all classes. The 
excitement, comment, and general interest occasioned by the sudden slay- 
ing of a prominent man, in the full possession of health and wealth, and 
almost everything else rendering life desirable, became the theme of con- 
versation in all parts of the land, and even in Europe, whence the news 
was cabled, the awful occurrence produced a marked stir. Not since the 
assassination of Abraham Lincoln, has the death of any one man vseemed 
to so excite public attention and comment in every quarter of the globe. 



THE OBSEQUIES. 

The funeral ceremonies over the body of the late James Fisk, Jr., on 
Monday, January 8th, 1672, attracted one of the largest crowds ever 
assembled together in this city. The extraordinary circumstances biir- 
rouuding the tragedy, coupled with the notoriety of the principals, gave 
an interest which otherwise would not attach itself to the obsequies of a 
man like the deceased. Many were, of course, present in hopes of 
gratifying a morbid curiosity so frequently manifested on such occasions. 
Despite the crowd and press of people, everything passed off quietly and 
with decorum. 



30 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

When it became known that the murdered man's remains would lie in 
state at the. Grand Opera House, the vestibule of the offices of the Erie 
Railway Company was soon crowded with sight-seers, representing every 
grade of society, anxious to get a glimpse of all that remained of a man 
whose history has been so remarkable. At his late residence a large 
concourse of people also gathered, in consequence of an impression that 
the service would take place there previous to the removal of the body to 
the Opera House, but on being informed by the police that such would 
not be the case they quietly moved away, leaving the house deserted, 
save by a few knowing ones who hoped to catch a sight of the body as it 
was brought out; for in the hall of the house a temporary bier had been 
erected, and there the coffin, which was covered with beautiful flowers 
woven into beautiful emblems, was stationed till it was removed to the 
Opera House, and it was there the body was viewed by Coroner Young 
and the jury. 

AT THE GRAND OPERA HOUSE. 

Here the scene was one long to be remembered. The stoops in the 
immediate vicinity of Twenty-third street and Eighth avenue were 
crowded, chiefly by ladies, the majority of whom were attired in semi- 
mourning, while the array of gentlemen dressed in sombre costumes, and 
the subdued voices and decorous behaviour of all present was a good 
indication that they had been gathered together by something more than 
a mere morbid curiosity. Every window commanding a view of the 
Opera House was also occupied, while the street Arabs mounted lamp- 
posts and wagons to compensate themselves for the shortness of their 
stature. At nine and a half the crowd was so great that hundreds must 
have been unable to see- anything, except the moving mass of heads all 
around. Over the Grand Opera House floated at half-mast the national 
ensign. In the interior of the building is an immense hall completely 
surrounded by a large gallery, the private offices of the Erie Railway 
Company being at one end. The front of tbis gallery was festooned with 
black and white muslin, caught up at intervals with black and white 
satin rosettes, while over the entrance to the private office there was a 
handsomely framed, engraved portrait of the deceased in his full regi- 
mentals, as Colonel of the Ninth Regiment, around which was festooned 
an American flag, while on each side hung the flag of the Ninth. The 
gilding and the carving on the galleries were also effectually concealed, 
hiding the gold branches of the chandelier, all of which added to impart 
a deeper shade to the prevailing gloom. Jay Gould and three of the Erie 
directors were in their office, the former engaged in directing the cere- 
monies. In the morning the Directors met and passed a series of resolu- 
tions, strongly expressive of sorrow over the calamity that had befallen 
their associate, James Fisk, Jr., paying a tribute to his personal qualities, 




EDWARD S. STOKES— THE ASSASSIN. 
@btoarb ®. <Ztotc6-bev 3tteud)elm5rber. 



LIFE OF JAMES FISK, JR. 33 

and filled also with the deepest condolence for his widow and family. 
Among the resolutions was the following : 

Resolved, That in token of respect, we will to-day follow his body from his late 
residence to the railway station, and a committee of this board will then accompany 
it to its last resting place in his native State. 

The committee consisted of John Hilton, Henry Thompson, and Dr. 
Eldridge, 

The officers of the Ninth assembled in the hall soon after ten o'clock, 
attired in full uniform, wearing the accustomed crape on the left arm and 
the hilt of the sword. The rest of the command formed in Twenty-third 
street, the regiment being the guard of honor. According to the original 
programme the mournful procession was to have started at eleven o'clock, 
but it was delayed some time. Long before that hour the wives of the 
Directors and principal officers began to arrive, as well as many other 
ladies, who had been able to procure admission. All were dressed in 
deep mourning, and many were in tears. Prominent among these were 
Miss Morse and her brother, the former weeping bitterly. Some surprise 
was expressed by many at the genuine sorrow which was so general, for 
it seemed to be from no desire for outward show, but simply a token of 
honest grief. The men of the Ninth, especially, evidently felt the de- 
privation very much. They spoke of the deceased with a tenderness that 
was touching. 

ARRIVAL OF THE BODY. 

At 11J o'clock there was a sudden movement among the crowd ia 
the Erie Building, and the body of Colonel Fisk was borne to the bier pre 
pared for its reception, by the following gentlemen belonging to the 
Ninth Eegiment, Adj. Allien, Lieut. W. P. Montgomery, John H. Wood, 
Edward W. Bowlend, George A. Hussey, Alonzo P. Bacon, and George 
W. Palfrey, who were a special committee to take charge of the body 
until it should arrive at the depot for transportation to Brattleboro. 
They also formed a guard of honor while the body was lying in state. 
As it was borne through the crowd there was a stillness as of death. 
The military had formed in line on both sides of the street, and stood 
with presented arms from the time the remains had left the house until it 
entered the hall of the Opera House. Every head in the crowd was 
uncovered, and although among those who were furthest off there was a 
pressing forward and a straining to catch a sight of the coffin, there was 
nothing unseemly or rude. 

The catafalque was received at the top of the stairs by Col. Braine, and 
other officers of the Ninth, and placed in the centre of the vestibule, 
resting on a rich velvet pall, on which rested crowns, crosses and other 
devices, composed of tube-roses and camellias, while beautiful lilies were 
scattered over the corpse, which was clothed in full regimentals, the cap 
and the sword resting on the bod^. The face, with the exception of its 



84 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

pallor, was unchanged, and no one unless knowing the circumstances 
would have believed that Fisk had died a violent death. The position 
of the head increased somewhat the always massive proportions of the 
lower jaw, but in other respects the face was that of a man asleep. The 
body was contained in a handsome rosewood casket, with gold-plated 
handles, and a splendid plate bearing the inscription : 



JAMES FISK, Jr., 

Died Jan. 7, 1872, 

In the 37th year 

of his age. 



When the body had been arranged, the undertaker took his place at 
the head of the bier. Lieut.-Col. Braine and officers of the Ninth acting 
as a guard of honor. Among others conspicuous around the catafalque 
were Judge Spencer, of the Superior Court; Mr. J. Gould, Mr. Archer, 
Mr. Tull, Dr. Eldridge, Mr. Sherwood, the Messrs. Fields, Thomas D. 
Shearman, Mr. Beach, Dr. Simmons, Mr. Beldon, Mr. Bach, Mr. Harley, 
Mr. Kamsell, Director Erie Railway ; Mr. John B. Peck, Mr. Blanchard, 
General Superintendent Erie Railway ; Mr. Barr, Passenger Superinten- 
dent Erie Railway ; Mr. A. Lane, Counsel to Erie Railway Company ; 
Mr. Henry Thompson, and Ex-Judge Fullerton. 

THE LYING IN STATE. 

The public were now admitted to view the body. Entering by the 
Twenty-second street entrance, the spectators filed in a long line past the 
casket, and passing through the building, left by the door opening on 
Eighth avenue. Among the first to take the last look at the dead were 
several ladies professionally connected with the Grand Opera House. 
Their grief seemed almost uncontrollable. Many of those who followed 
in the continuous line were also in tears, and all were reverent. One 
man who, it was said, had been the Colonel's barber, reverently placed 
his hand on the dead man's brow, and with the other gently twisted the 
dead man's moustache. He, too, was plainly in deep grief. The " lying 
in state " continued till one o'clock, and at that hour the funeral services 
began, in the presence of the Erie directors, the officers of the Ninth 
Regiment and the personal friends of the deceased, some occupying seats 
around the coffin, while others stood in groups around the hall. 

THE FUNERAL SERVICES. 

The Episcopal burial service was read by Chaplain Flagg, of the Ninth 
Regiment. In the midst of the prayers, the wife, mother and sister were 
brought and seated near the catafal<fue. They were evidently in deep 



LIFE OF JAMES F1SK, JR 3ft 

sorrow, and as their sobs and sighs broke forth, the scene was a most 
affecting one. The chaplain concluded the services by announcing that 
the funeral services would be concluded on the following day (Tuesday) 
at Brattleboro. The relatives then advanced to take tneir last look at the 
body, the ladies bending over and kissing the lips of the deceased. The 
Ninth Kegiment band, the Aschenbroden Yerein, the officers of the Third 
Brigade, and the entire Ninth Kegiment, then filed through the hall, 
taking a hasty look at the body, and departed by the eastern entrance. 
At this point the persons belonging to the Narragansett Steamship Com- 
pany's steamers arrived, under the escort of a body of police, and with 
some difficulty made their way to the vestibule, and appeared to be deeply 
impressed with the sublime spectacle. 

A few minutes before two o'clock the coffin was closed, draped with 
the American flag, and was then borne by the guard of honor to the 
hearse, the following gentlemen acting as pall- bearers : 

Col. Emmons Clark, Seventh Regiment. 

Col. Geo. D. Scott, Eighth Regiment. 

Col. Wm. B. Allen, Fifty-fifth Regiment. 

Col. Frank Storey, Sixth Regiment. 

Col. Josiah Porter, Twenty-second Regiment. 

Lieut.- Col. A. P. Webster, First Regiment. 

On reaching the hearse, which awaited it in Twenty-third street, the 
body was placed in its position, and the pall-bearers stood behind the 
hearse, the Erie directors and the officers of the Ninth preceding it, while 
the officers of the Third Brigade followed. The Ninth Regiment was 
drawn up in line on the south side of Twenty-third street, the right rest- 
ing on Eighth avenue. As the coffin was brought into the street, the 
band, assisted by the Aschenbroden Yerein, played a solemn dirge. 

THE PROCESSION. 

At 2 o'clock the procession started from the Grand Opera House. At 
this point of the proceedings the scene was a most impressive one. Every 
available spot from which the procession could be viewed was occupied, 
while the solemn stillness that prevailed added to its solemnity. Most 
of the stores in Eighth avenue were closed, and the blinds in the private 
houses in Twenty-third street were generally drawn, and small flags 
draped with crape floated from the telegraph and lamp poles. 

The following was the order of the procession : 

First came a body of Police one hundred strong, then the band of the 
Ninth Regiment, playing " The Dead March in Saul." 

After the band came a large number of persons in the employ of the 
Erie Railroad, wearing badges of crape on their left arms. 

Next followed the Yeteran Corps of the regiment, Lieut. Col. Braine 
and Staflj and the other officers of the Ninth. 



36 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

Then came the Ninth Regiment in full force, marching in triple line^ 
and presenting a splendid appearance. 

Next followed the hearse containing the corpse, and drawn by four 
black horses, richly caparisoned. 

Following it was Col. Fisk's favorite charger, a splendid black horse, 
led by a tall, colored groom, and, in accordance with military precedent, 
a pair of spurred boots were inserted in the stirrups of the empty saddle, 
with the toes turned backward. 

The officers of the Third Brigade and another detachment of Erie 
officials followed, and finally came the carriages, extending nearly a 
quarter of a mile in line. In the first was Jay Gould, President of the 
Erie Railroad ; then came Frederick A. Lane, Mortimer Smith, and others 
prominently connected with the great railroad. After these came the 
carriages of the private friends of the deceased. 

The column moved through Twenty-third street and Fifth avenue to 
the New Haven depot, in Twenty -seventh street, where the remains were 
placed on board the cars for conveyance to Brattleboro. 

The whole route was thronged with spectators, who seemed deeply im- 
pressed by the spectacle. Fifth avenue presented a striking appearance, 
the denizens of that neighborhood filling all the windows, balconies, and 
door steps. 

On the procession arriving at the corner of Madison avenue and 
Twenty-sixth street, the Ninth formed into two lines, and the cortege 
passed between them. The remains were then placed in a special car, 
especially prepared for them, and the wife, mother, and sister of the de- 
ceased were escorted to the car assigned them by Captain Fuller. 

The officers of the Ninth, the Erie Committee, and the friends of the 
deceased filled the remaining cars of the train, which was heavily draped, 
both inside and outside, with crape. It left shortly after amid breathless 
silence, and was watched with eager eyes till it was out of sight. 

The procession then returned, the carriages and the civilians going 
home, the Ninth regiment marching to its armory, where it was quietly 
dismissed. 

And thus passed from sight the mortal remains of one who had been a 
vast power, but that power was no more. 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 



On" Saturday afternoon, January 6th, at about half-past four o'clock, 
Mr. James Fisk, Jr., was shot in the Grand Central Hotel, Broadway, 
New York, by Mr. Edward S. Stokes. 

At the hoar above indicated Colonel James Fisk's private coach drew 
up in front of the Grand Central Hotel, on Broadway. It was about the 
time that New York's great thoroughfare presents the pleasantest sight. 
Men of business were walking leisurely homeward, troops of ladies were 
lingering among the glories of the shops, stately carriages lined the curb- 
stones awaiting the pleasure of* their mistresses, and the color and sound 
of life were more subdued and harmonized than at busier hours of the 
day. The rumble of the vehicles was not so noisy, for the heavy drays 
and trucks had done with their incessant dragging hither and thither, and 
had left Broadway, going home through the by -streets. 

As Mr. Fisk's carriage dashed over the pavement before reaching 
the hotel, guided dexterously through the tide of other conveyances, a 
coupe' at some distance in the rear was observed following in a mysteri- 
ous manner. On the box of this coupe* sat an upright and sturdy-looking 
man. He held the reins with a firm hand, and seemed to be looking con- 
tinually at the back of the head of the coachman who was perched upon 
the stylish equipage of the Prince of Erie. All the way down Broadway 
this curious proceeding was continued. A few blocks from Bleecker 
street the door of the coupe" was flung open and a man sprang quickly out, 
reached the sidewalk and ran swiftly through the moving crowd of pedes- 
trians in the same direction in which the carriages had hitherto been 
going. This man was Edward Stokes, known to the world by this time 
as the bitterest enemy of the man who had been riding in advance of him 
in his glittering carriage, and challenging public observation of himself. 
Darting through the crowd, he ran for some distance until he reached the 
entrance of the Grand Central Hotel. He passed into the main corridor 
just as the carriage of Fisk stopped in front: then went up stairs, and it 
was observed by those who saw him that he was pale and much agitated. 
No one fancied, however, that there was much significance in this fact, 
and so the momentary surprise at his hurried ingress passed only like a 
ripple over the minds of those lounging near the door. 

Stokes ascended the stairs to the first floor, and then went down the 
ladies' private stairway. He reached the first landing. 

Fisk had entered the vestibule, and was going up seven steps which led 
into the hall. When he reached the last step, Stokes, above him, stand 
ing near the balustrade, rested a revolver on the rail and fired at Fisk. 

37 



38 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

The shot struck him in the left arm ; another immediately followed it strik- 
ing in the abdomen, and Fisk cried out, 

a For God's sake, will anybody save me ? " 

The impassioned Stokes glared at him fiercely, fired two more shots, 
and turned and ran up the stairs. 

At the top of the stairs he was met by a gentleman, who had heard the 
reports and was hurrying to find what was the matter. He passed Stokes, 
and saw nothing singular in his appearance. Fisk was still crying, 

" For God's sake, will anybody save me ? " 

This gentleman, who is a resident of Boston and a surgeon, lost no 
time in putting his arm under the head of the prostrate man, who was 
gasping. The people in the hotel and those in the street at the time 
crowded around in intense excitement, and gazed and listened breathlessly 
and with some horror at the sight of blood that was ruuing out of Mr. 
Fisk's sleeve on the floor. The question was asked hirn, 

" What is the matter?" 

He said, with an effort, 

" I'm shot." 

He was then lifted and carried up the stairs into the ladies' parlor. 
There he was put upon a sofa, but it was thought better to take him into 
another room across the corridor. Here he was laid upon a bed. A mes- 
senger was hurriedly dispatched for a surgeon. Some one asked him, 

" Where are you hurt ? How many wounds are there ?" 

" Two or three of them." 

His coat was quickly removed, but it was found more difficult to get 
his shirt off; so it was cut into pieces, and in this way the wound in the 
arm was disclosed, the blood from which was running in a great stream, j 

The Colonel looked at it bravely and without any apparent shrinking. 
The shot had passed completely through the flesh, leaving a large, ugly- 
looking hole like one made by a bullet used in a navy revolver. 

Fisk was asked if that was the only wound, and he said " No." He said 
he had another, and pointed to his stomach. The physician who had 
arrived uncovered the wouud and found it a large one, like the other, 
with very little blood visible. After the doctor had finished his examina- 
tion for the time, Mr. Fisk asked for some u brandy and water." After he 
had drunk it the doctor probed the wound, but found that he had no 
instruments long enough to reach the ball, if it could be reached at all. 
While the operation was proceeding, and a large number of persons were 
around him, Fisk maintained his composure, the muscles of his face never 
quivering, and watching the movements of the surgeon with the greatest 
coolness. 

After it was through he said to Dr. Triplet, who was first to attend 
him : 

"Doctor, if I am going to die Iwant to know it. I'm not afraid to die; 
but then if I am going to die, I would like to know beforehand." 



Ji 




ii »•» 



THE ASSASSIN LYING IN WAIT FOR HIS VICTIM. 
$.r SJiiud)dmbrber toactct auf fcin Opfer. 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 41 

The doctor replied : — 

" Colonel; you are not going to die to-night, and not to-morrow either, I 
hope." 

The gentleman who had first found Mr. Fisk after he was shot, asked 
him who it was who attacked him. 

He answered, 

" Stokes." 

Captain Burns in a few minutes entered the room, and after saying a 
few words to the Doctor, went out again. Then he returned with Edward 
Stokes, well guarded between two policemen. He was made to approach 
the bed. He wore a rigidly dignified air, with a face perfectly immova- 
ble, expressive only of intense passion strongly suppressed. There was a 
singular light in his eyes, which he fixed upon the man whom he had 
assassinated. 

He was asked by the captain, 

" Is that the man who shot you ? " 

Fisk looked at Stokes and said: — 

f Yes, that's the «nan who shot me. That's Stokes/ 9 

Some one asked him if Stokes wanted to kill him. 

t Yes, he wanted my life." 

Fisk was soon surrounded by a bevy of doctors; and the corridor 
which opens into the ante-room to the chamber in which he was lying 
was quickly filled by his friends and associates. The news of the assassi- 
nation had circulated very rapidly, and nearly all of the directors and offi- 
cers of the Erie Kailway Company were there. A policeman closely 
guarded the door, and at the foot of the main stairway a waiter permitted 
none but privileged persons to pass. Captain Burns passed in and out 
very often. The assembled gentlemen talked little except when some one 
came |om the room, when their inquiries were eager and excited. Colonel 
Fellows -was a long time within, and when he came out looked pale and 
gad, almost haggard, as if he had experienced the unremitting anxiety of 
years. William Marcy Tweed was pacing slowly and thoughtfully up 
and down the hall, his face not lighted as usual by an expression of 
humorous good nature. Jay Gould sat upon a chair against the wall. 
seemingly composed, but anxious, for a long time ; but every one was sud 
denly startled by seeing him bow his head upon his hands and weep unres- 
trainedly with deep, audible sobs. From time to time it was whispered 
that the doctors were consulting or still examining, and at about eight o'clock 
it was said that the ball in the abdomen had been touched by the probe. 

To return to the time of the occurrence of the assassination, Mr. 
Edward Stokes, who had been the cause of all this misery, ran down the 
stairs that he had ascended a few moments before, and went up to Mr. 
Powers at the desk, saying : 

"There's a man shot at the ladies' entrance!" 

When he had said this he seemed to have lost all control over himself 



42 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

and to have been overcome by a panic. He looked about wildly and 
confusedly, as if to eseape, and then suddenly ran towards the barber's 
room, from which he knew there were doors opening into Mercer street 
Mr. Powers had watched him suspiciously after hearing his startling 
announcement, and gave the alarm. He shouted, "Stop that man!" 
Stokes was seized with the assistance of several persons, the guests who 
were receiving the soothing ministrations of the coiffeurs starting from 
the chairs with the towels around their necks and their faces covered 
with white lather ; Stokes was taken back to the foot of the stairs ; and 
made to sit down in one of the waiters' chairs ; while sitting here a man 
observed that he very nearly fainted away. 

Mr. Powers sent immediately to the Fifteenth Precinct station house, 
and Captain Burns and Officer McCadden soon arrived and took the 
prisoner into their custody. Vigilant search was then made through the 
halls and parlors for the revolver or pistol which Stokes had used, as it 
was not found in his possession. Mr. Crockett and all the servants looked 
anxiously in every imaginable place, until, just after the indentification 
of Stokes by Fisk, a young lady discovered it in the parlor near the head 
of the stairs, lying under a chair, where Stokes had flung it in his haste 
and excitement. The prisoner was then taken by Captain Burns and the 
officer to the station house. 

Here he walked calmly up to the desk and gave his name, residence 
and occupation. He was then taken to a cell below, in which he was 
placed. But it did not suit him, and as he spoke of such treatment in a 
deprecating way he was ordered to be brought up to the Captain's room. 
He was approached by an acquaintance, one whom he knew well ; but 
stared him in the face a moment vacantly, seeming to be in a passionate 
daze, nearly like madness. A light broke over his face, and he said, 

"How do you do, Dan?" and then turned away, or was pull^l away 
by the officers. 

When Stokes had been brought into the Captain's room a score of 
reporters crowded around the door and pressed the doorkeeper for admit- 
tance. One bolder than the rest addressed the Captain when he appeared 
and said : — 

" Captain, we must see the prisoner. It is a shame to exclude the press 
thus. The case is now out of your hands and* controlled by the coroner. 
You have no right to interfere." 

Another scribe chimed in and said: — 

" Well, Captain, what are you going to do about it?" 

At which the Captain laughed, and said that he had orders to let no one 
see the prisoner. The reporters knew this before. 

The prisoner was again removed to a cell, this time to pass the night 
there. The cell is like all others in police stations — small, low and 
narrow, with a wicket door of latticed iron work, to which is fixed a 
etrong lock. The walla are whitewashed to a ghostly whiteness; the 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 43 

interior is dark and gloomy, and at the further end is a narrow slab 
against the wall, the nightly couch of the unfortunate who is immured as 
a consequence of misdemeanor. 

Stokes appeared very sullen when going to the cell, and, when the door 
shut behind him with a clang, turned round abruptly and looked at the 
officer. Then he commenced walking restlessly up and down the small 
space and called roughly for cigars. They were brought him, and he 
commenced smoking fiercely as if for life. Cigar after cigar was lighted 
an<l flung away. In the course of his restless reverie he suddenly asked 
of the policeman who stood outside the door, with a betrayal of nervous- 
ness in his tone : — 

" What do you think, is the man seriously injured?" 

The officer said he did not know. 

Stokes resumed his nervous movement, and kept it up until the reporters 
left at a late hour, smoking and muttering to himself. 

In another part of the station house was locked the boy who tends the 
door of the ladies' entrance of the Grand Central Hotel. He was closely 
guarded from the reporters until taken away to be examined by the cor- 
oner. His name is Kedman, and he witnessed the shooting of Fisk by 
Stokes. 

CLINGING TO A THREAD OF HOPE. 

It was hoped that, as the Colonel was very fat, the intestines might have 
escaped fatal injury. As the Colonel had recently suffered from a bilious 
attack, and used cathartics to good effect, it was thought that he might 
stand a better chance for life than would another man in his position. 

About half-past five the Colonel's colored servant entered the room. 

" What is the matter, Colonel ? " he asked. 

Col. Fisk. — I have been shot, but I think there is a good chance of my 
life, and 1 hope it wont amount to much. 

THE ARRIVAL OF FRIENDS. 

Mrs. Morse and her two daughters, on whom Col. Fisk was about to 
call when Stokes shot him, entered the room, They did everything in 
their power to soothe his sufferings. Before six o'clock the Hon. Wm 
M. Tweed, who had heard of the shooting while at the Metropolitan Hotel, 
entered Col. Fish's bed-room. The Colonel smiled as Mr. Tweed spoke 
to him. 

" Well, William," said he, "you have had a great many false friends 
in your troubled, but I have always stood by you, and I'm afraid that 
you're going to lose another friend." 

Mr. Tweed. — What makes you think so? Are you in any pain, 
Colonel ? 

Col. Fisk. — When you were a boy did you ever run away from school 
and fill yourself with green apples ? I feel just as I used to feel when I 
filled myaelf with green apples. I've got a belly-ache. 



44 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

Mr. Tweed. — Colonel, hadn't you better send for Mr. Comer (Mr. Fisk's 
private secretary) to take charge of any private papers that you may have 
in vour pockets ? 

Col. Fisk. — No, I have no private papers with me. They are all public 
papers, and I don't care who sees them. 

It is proper to add here that fifteen $100 bills were found in Colonel 
Fisk's pocket. 

Meanwhile Captain John Acker, Thos. G. Shearman, young David Dud- 
Icy Field and his father, and Dr. Marsh entered the room, and conversed 
with the sufferer. 

MR. JAY GOULD. 

Mr. Gould had been absent from the city. He arrived at his residence 
on Fifth avenue about five o'clock. He had hardly drawn off his overcoat 
before a messenger arrived with the news of the shooting of Colonel Fisk. 
Mr. Gould, who could scarcely credit the intelligence, entered his carriage 
and was rapidly driven to the Grand Central Hotel. He threaded his 
way through the dense crowd in the grand corridor, and approached the 
clerk's desk. He sent up his card to Col. Fisk, but before the messenger 
returned some one kindly informed the watchmen at the stairs of Mr. 
Gould's presence. They at once allowed him to ascend to the second floor 
without question. He reached the door of Col. Fisk's room while the 
doctors were probing the wound. Mr. Gould showed no symptoms of 
nervousness, and evidently hoped for the best, though the most alarming 
rumors were whispered in his ear. He was refused admission by the offi- 
cer at the door, who said he had orders to admit no one. Mr. Gould, 
however, remained at the door until the doctors had completed their 
examination. When Dr. Wood made his appearance, his shirt collar and 
bosom were stained with Col. Fisk's blood. Mr. Gould eagerly grasped 
him by the arm, saying, "Is the case a hopeful one, doctor?" 

The doctor muttered " Bad — -bad — very bad." 

Dr. Beach and Dr. Fisher followed Dr. Wood, and Mr. Gould endeav- 
ored to enter the room, but the door was shut in his face. For a minute 
he stood apparently dazed. Then he placed both hands to his face, and 
broke completely down. He wept like a child. Some considerate gentle- 
man placed a chair under him, and he leaned forward a perfect picture of 
abject grief. In a chair at his side sat Col. Fisk's colored servant, shed- 
ing bitter tears. Detective Irving then succeeded in gaining admission 
for Mr. Gould, and he entered the room of his dying friend. He took a 
seat at Col. Fisk's bedside. The Colonel's sympathies were aroused at 
seeing his best friend convulsed with grief, and tears began to steal into 
his own eyes. Not a word was spoken for a minute. Then Mr. Gould leaned 
forward and conversed with the Colonel in a low tone, long and earnest. 

He was interrupted by Mr. Shearman, one of Colonel Fisk's lawyers, 
who asked Col. Fisk if he had made a will. 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 4* 

Col. Fisk. — Yes, I have made one. 

Mr. Shearman. — Can you tell me where it is ? 

Col. Fisk. — No, I can't. I don't know what I have done with it. It is 
around some place. 

Mr. Shearman.— Do you desire to make another will ? 

Col. Fisk.— I do. 

The Colonel then dictated the purport of his will to Mr. Shearman, 
who meanwhile sent out for pen, ink and paper. After receiving the 
Colonel's instructions in regard to the disposition of his property, Mr. 
Shearman withdrew into the adjoining room, and drew up the following 
rough copy of 

THE WILL. 

I, James Fisk, junior, of the city of New York, being of sound mind and memory, 
do make, publish and declare this my last will and testament, hereby revoking all 
former wills by me made. 

I. I give, devise and bequeath all my estate and property, real and personal, except 
the special legacy hereinafter mentioned, to my beloved wife, Lucy D. Fisk, subject, 
however, to a trust to pay to my dear father and mother, jointly or to the survivor of 
them, three thousand dollars a year for their support, during the life of either of 
them; and further to pay to Minnie F.Morse and Kosie C. Morse, each, two thousand 
dollars a year during their lives, respectively, until marriage, when the annuity of the 
one marrying shall cease. The property and estate aforesaid to vest absolutely in 
the said Lucy and her heirs forever, subject only as aforesaid ; and the said trust 
shall not affect her right freely to dispose of and transfer any such property. 

II. I give and bequeath to my sister, Mrs. Mary G. Hooker, stock in the Narra- 
gansett Steamship Company, of the par value of one hundred thousand dollars, for 
her sole and separate use forever. 

III. I appoint my said wife and my friend, Eben D. Jordan of Boston, executors of 
this my last will and testament. 

In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal, this sixth day of January, 
1872. James Fisk, Jr. [Seal.] 

Signed, sealed, published and declared by the testator to be his last will and testa- 
ment, in the presence of us, who have hereto subscribed our names as witnesses, at 
his request, and in his presence, and in the presence of each other. 

Thomas G. Shearman, No. 316 West Twenty-second st., New York. 

Jay Gould, No. 578 Fifth ave., New York. 

F. Willis Fisher, M. D., Grand Central Hotel. 

COLONEL FISK'S PROPERTY. 

The total value of Col. Fisk's property is not known, but it is believed 
that it will run considerably over a million of dollars. After a fresh 
copy of the will had been made, it was taken into the bed-room of Col. 
Fisk, who rapidly ran it over and signed it. He then began to complain 
of pain, but the wounds did not bleed, and there were no signs of vomiting. 

THB ANTE-MORTEM DEPOSITION. 

About eight o'clock Coroner Young entered the room, accompanied by 
Captain Burns and Dr. Marsh. He empanelled a jury consisting of 



46 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

Isaac W. England of 141 East Thirty-ninth street, Charles F. Moore of 
143 West Twentieth street, William 0. Chapin of 273 Eighth avenue, 
John L. Hall of 178 Jay street, Brooklyn, Edward C. Morse of Grand 
Central Hotel, and Dr. E. T. T. Marsh of 41 West Ninth street. 

The jury was empanelled in the outer room, after which they entered 
the room of the sufferer and ranged themselves at his bedside. The other 
persons in the room were the Hon. Wm. M. Tweed, Mr. Jay Gould, David 
Dudley Field, Dr. James R. Wood, and Dr. Fisher. Coroner Young and 
Dr. Marsh sat down at the side of a small marble- top table, which had 
been drawn near the bed. Col. Fisk lay upon his back, his right hand 
thrown carelessly outside the coverlet, and his wounded arm propped up 
on a pillow, which rested on a chair at the bedside. Coroner Young 
arose. 

"Colonel," he said, "are you ready to make your ante- mortem state- 
ment?" 

Col. Fisk.— Yes. 

Q. — What is your name ? A. — James Fisk, Jr. 

Q. — Where do you live? A. — 313 West Twenty-third street. 

Q. — Do you believe that you are about to die from the injuries yon 
have received ? A. — I feel that I am in a very critical condition. 

Q. — Have you any hopes of recovery ? A. — I hope so. 

Q. — Are you willing to make a true statement of the manner in which 
you received the injuries? A. — lam. 

Coroner Young (handing the Colonel a Bible). — You do solemnly swear 
that the testimony which you shall give in the case of James Fisk, Jr., 
shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you 
God. Now, Colonel, will you make your statement. 

THE COLONEL'S OWN STOEY. 

Col. Fisk. — This afternooon at about 4 o'clock I rode up to the Grand 
Central Hotel. I entered by the private entrance, and when I entered the 
first door I met the boy, of whom I inquired if Mrs. Morse was in. He 
told me that Mrs. Morse and her youngest daughter had gone out, but he 
thought the other daughter was in her grandmother's room. I asked him 
to go up and tell the daughter that I was there. I came through the 
other door, and was going up stairs, and had gone up about two steps, 
and on looking up I saw Edward S. Stokes at the head of the stairs. Ai 
soon as I saw him I noticed that he had something in his hand, and a 
second after I saw the flash, heard the report, and felt the ball enter my 
abdomen on the right side. A second after I heard another shot, and the 
bullet entered my left arm. When I received the first shot I staggered 
and ran toward the door, but noticing a crowd gathering in front, I ran 
back on the stairs again. I was then brought up stairs in the hotel. 1 
saw nothing more of Stokes until he was brought before me by an officer 




CARRYING FISK FROM THE GRAND STAIRCASE TO HIS ROOM. 
$idf mitt oon tev groftcti Xreppe nad> fctucm 3immcr gctragen. 



ASSASSINATION OP JAMES FISK, JR. 49 

for identification. I fully identified Edward S. Stokes as the person who 
shot me. 

This testimony was written down by Coroner Young, who read it over 
to Col. Fisk. The document was then placed before the Colonel, who 
appended his signature. 

The Colonel now began to complain of much pain, and became very/ 
restless. The doctors gave him powerful anodynes, and he gradually ' 
sank into a gentle slumber. Meanwhile troops of his friends gathered ' 
around the door. Among those who visited Col. Fisk during the evening 
were District Attorney Fellows and Captain Simons. David Dudley 
Field, counsel of the Erie Ring; R. M. Simons, Managing Director of the 
Narragansett Steamship Company ; Mr. White, Treasurer of the Erie 
Railway Company; W. H. Morgan, Homer H. Lane, Mr. Barr, and Mr. 
Sisson, and others prominent for their connection, in one capacity or ' 
another, with Erie. 

Policemen were stationed at the various stair-cases, and no person was 
allowed to ascend without a pass from the clerk or proprietor of the hotel', 
and at the door of the wounded man's room another sentinel refused ad* 
mission to those whom Jay Gould did not care to see. Tweed himself, 
once all powerful, had to make his way to the bedside by the permission i 
of the magnate of Erie. 

THE SCENE IN THE HOTEL. 

The news of the Colonel's having been shot spread like wildfire. All 
his friends at first discredited it. John Chamberlain, when he first heard ! 
of it, offered to bet $500 to $100 that it was untrue. Soon, however, the 
truth was realized. The Grand Central Hotel was jammed inside and 
outside. As the particulars of the case became known the excitement 
grew intense. Colonel Fisk's good qualities were alone remembered. 
Men spoke of him with tears in their eyes, and denounced the assassin in 
the most unmeasured terms. Every acquaintance had some little story 
to tell of the Colonel's kindness of heart, and when any unwary individual 
referred to the evil reports concerning the Colonel, he was actually in 
danger of being mobbed. The general impression was that the Colonel's 
death would be a loss to the city. Men referred with pride to the splen- 
did regimen*, which he had organized, spoke of the magnifieent line of 
steamers running between Long Branch and New York, praised his ad- 
ministration of the Narragansett Steamship Company, declared that his 
ferryboats were the finest in the world, and added to his quaint, odd 
qualities of expression and manner, his original sayings, and his whole- 
souled, generous disposition. The crowd thronged the hotel until one 
o'clock in the morning, apparently without abatement. The members of 
the Ninth regiment and many of the employees of the Erie Railroad were 
especially indignant, and muttered vaguely of lynch law. 

Knots of twos and threes would increase with Wonderful quickness 
4 



m THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

into small crowds, from the middle of which the speaker would narrate 
his knowledge of the facts connected with the assassination. There would 
follow expression of the greatest sympathy for the wounded man, while 
when the name of Stokes was mentioned, the strongest feeling of condem- 
nation was manifested. 

OATHS AND CURSES 

were used freely whenever his name was spoken, and judging from the 
determined manner of the mob, it would have fared but badly with Stokes 
had he been present. The bullet extracted from Colonel Fisk's arm, and 
in the possession of one of the attendants at the hotel, was eagerly sought 
after, and on being produced became the subject of much curiosity and 
many remarks. Every man present appeared to derive a certain pleasure 
in handling the missile which had nearly taken a man's life. Walk where 
one might, nothing but the remark, " lie's a dirty coward " — applied to 
Stokes — was heard on every side. At the bar, one man was foolhardy 
enough to hazard the remark that he wished Fisk might die, but from 
the general consternation and disapprobation that ensued, the speaker 
would have willingly withdrawn his remark. 

Later in the evening, when more persons had arrived from the theatres, 
and the different clubs had disgorged their members, and on the news 
becoming generally known, the approaches to the hotel became simply 
impassable. The hall was entirely blocked up with one human mass, and 
gaining the stairs leading to the upper landing was a matter of utter im- 
possibility. At the private entrance, or as it is generally spoken of as 
the " ladies' entrance," the scene was just the same, a reinforcement of 
waiters being necessary t9 maintain a clear entrance. 

As several richly dressed ladies applied at the office, for an order to 
allow them to reach Colonel Fisk's room, the scene was simply indescri- 
bable. The crowd pressed in on every side, and had the authorities re- 
fused they would simply have forced the way, an(J^ carried up the fair 
applicants by main force. All the ladies were i» tears, and their sobbing, 
mingled with the oaths and curses that were hurled against Stokes, only 
heightened the excitement. One lady, a personal friend of Colonel Fisk's, 
entered the hotel half an hour after the assassination, and remained wait- 
ing in an ante-room until long after midnight. As each person left the 
bedside of the dying man, this lady was most anxious in learning the 
message they bore, resuming her seat after each interview, resignedly 
anticipating the result of the affray. Another lady, a guest of the hotel, 
with bare shoulders, and dressed in the height of fashion, accompanied by 
a gentleman, perambulated the corridor the whole evening, passing within 
a few feet of where the dying man was lying, laughing and chatting with 
no regard to the feelings of the crowd of mourning friends who had con- 
gregated outside Colonel Fisk's room, eagerly anticipating the next bul- 
letin. 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR ftl 

Whatever the scenes of anxiety may have been about Sandringham at 
the time of the Prince of Wales' illness, certain it is that for intensity they 
could not have exceeded those that occurred at the Grand Central Hotel. 
No one present could help feeling a certain degree of commiseration for 
the poor creature who kept eagerly watching for any news that might 
come from the dying man's apartments, while at the same time, in the cor- 
ridor outside, stalked a lady laughing and chatting, unconcernedly in a 
manner that would seem to betoken that she was utterly indifferent to the 
feelings of any other save herself. Occasionally a waiter would appear 
with heated irons for warming the patient's feet, while again some assis- 
tant would enter with a bottle of medicine. All these persons on leaving 
the room would be eagerly clutched by the sleeve and asked all manner 
of questions. Generally these individuals were very reticent in communi. 
eating any news — the only means of obtaining facts being through the doc- 
tors. These gentlemen — seven in number — kept hurrying in and out, 
scarcely ever stopping to reply to any questions. The policemen in 
charge of the passage being inexorable, there Was very little chance of 
gaining much information. At 8 o'clock Wm. M. Tweed left the patient's 
room and passed out. lie was immediately recognized, and consequently 
had to go through rather a severe cross-examination before he could gain 
his carriage at the foot of the stairs. In answer to all inquiries the "Boss " 
merely shook his head solemnly and muttered, "Bad job, sad thing, poor 
fellow," and hurriedly ran to the landing from whence he reached his 
carriage. 

SCENES AT THE GRAND OPERA HOUSE. 

The news had a dampening effect on the gay spirits of the attaches of 
the Grand Opera House. The sad occurrence was known there soon .Iter 
its consummation, and at about the time of the closing of the Erie Kailway 
offices, which are in the same building. The clerks gathered in groups 
around *any who had been more fortunate in gathering the details than 
themselves. Others started off on a tour of inquiry, and helped to swell 
the throng at the Grand Central Hotel. All were unanimous in the 
condemnation of the cowardly assassin, and there were some dark sugges- 
tions thrown out of summary vengeance if the affair should have a fatal 
termination. Many people residing in the vicinity of Twenty-third street 
and Eighth avenue rushed to the Erie office as the most likely place in 
which they could have their curiosity satisfied. 

The excitement among the actors was not less intense. It was proposed 
at first to suspend the play, but as a great number of tickets had been 
sold, it would have given dissatisfaction to many patrons of the house, and 
it was decided to let the play go on. The audience was fair in number, 
but it is doubtful if "Colleen Bawn " ever received a more mechanical 
representation, or was ever presented to a less appreciative audience. The 
players went through with their lines as if they were performing a task 



S2 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY 

and when off the stage congregated in the wings and dressing-rooms to 
discuss the latest intelligence from the wounded man. That Colonel Fisk 
has the sympathy and affection of his employe's there can be no doubt. 
There were many cases of visible emotion, and many a strong heart wept 
that had seldom wept before. With the close of their roles the actors 
quitted the scenes in which they had no heart, and directly the last scene 
ended the Grand Opera House was left all dark and deserted. 

AT THE FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL. 

When the news of the shooting was first received at the Fifth Avenue 
Hotel it was not generally believed. Men seated at dinner heard vague 
rumors whispered across the table that James Fisk had been shot, and on 
going out into the corridors saw men gathered in knots eagerly discussing 
the matter. A little later, when the report had been verified, the groups 
increased to crowds, and the halls and corridors were jammed with an 
excited crowd. The stock-brokers and bankers predominated, and the 
wildly -gesticulating crowd which throngs the Stock Exchange were trans- 
ferred for the time to the halls of the Fifth Avenue Hotel. The eager and 
excited throng elbowed and jostled about and discussed the aftair in its 
moral and financial light. 

" Well, it's all up with Fisk now, I guess," said one broker. 
" Yes, he's cornered this time." 
"How will it affect Erie?" 
"The Colonel will be missed on 'Change." 
"We shall feel his loss on Monday to no small extent." 
"It was a cowardly piece of buisness, to say the least." 
These and countless other remarks were to be heard on all sides, with 
the tide of sympathy strongly in Fisk's favor. Men hurried in and out 
of the hotel, some with anxiety depicted on their countenances, eagerly 
asking for the latest information in regard to the unfortunate man's con- 
dition. Others were anxiously looking forward to the effect on stocks 
which would result in case of Fisk's death. Nothing like the interest 
which was manifested in the event at the hotel last night has been seen 
for some time. 

u It's a sad ending for the Colonel," said one. 
" Yes, he didn't deserve to be shot down like a dog," said another 
The general feeling seemed to be that of pity for the unfortunate man 
among the brokers and guests assembled. Men puffed their cigars and 
meditated on the changes of fortune, and canvassed the matter in all its 
bearings — financially and otherwise. 
** Of course Erie will go down." 

u Certainly ; it can't help it. Those who sold Erie to-day were lucky." 
And so they talked, the brokers filling the corridors and surging up 
and down, an anxious, excited mass of humanity. 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 



AT THE OTHER HOTELS 

The topic of conversation at the Iloffman Douse, Brevoort Tlouse and 
St. Nicholas Hotel, was of scarcely anything else but the tragedy which 
had been enacted at the Grand Central Hotel. The ladies in the drawing 
rooms and parlors talked of nothing else. 

•' What a shame to shoot Mr. Fisk," said a young lady. 

"Perfectly dreadful," said another; "I don't think he was so bad, 
after all." 

" No ; he had a good heart, and that horrid Stokes was awfully jealous 
of him." 

At the St. Nicholas Tlotel the guests crowded the reading room, and 
could scarcely realize the fact that Colonel Fisk had been assassinated. 
Many people from the country thought it was only a sensation gotten up 
for the hour, but as the truth of the report became evident, many 
exclamations of sympathy for the victim were expressed. Almost every 
one said, " It's too bad ; it was a rash act, and one that is to be sincerely 
regretted." Even the bootblacks outside the doors expressed themselves 
in their vulgar, familiar way, pityingly. 

"I say, Billy, Jim Fisk is killed." 

"Don't yer spose I know it?" 

"Yes; but it's rough, though, ain't it?" 

" Yer right it is, and it's a blasted shame." 

IX THE STREET CARS 

and on the streets people anxiously asked, " ITow badly was Fisk 
wounded?" and when the reply was given that he was probably beyond 
recovery, the, inquirer said it was "too bad." and hoped that Fi.sk would 
not die. A street car conductor asked another 4< How is it with the 
Colonel now ?" 

"About pacing in his checks," was the reply. 

" Well, that's hard. I don't go much on Fisk's being a saint, but it 
wasn't right to murder him." 

"That's so. I don't want to see him die in this way. There's lots of 
worse men than Fisk was." 

So during the entire evening nothing was talked of but the sad affair, 
and while men were inclined to blame Fisk for many of his actions, much 
sympathy was expressed for him by all classes, and the condemnation of 
his cowardly assassin was almost universal. 

THE DEATH BED. 

When Mr. Tweed heard the result of the doctor's efforts in probing 

the wound, he telegraphed to Quarantine for Dr. Camochan. The doctor 

entered Col. Fisk's room about 11 P. M. The anodyne had thrown the 



54 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

Colonel into a deep slumber, and lie was snoring vigorously. The doctor 
advised that no further search should be made for the ball as it might 
produce inflammation, in which case there would not be the slighest hope 
of the Colonel's recovery. The doctor spoke with a faint degree of hope, 
but said that the chances were not one in a hundred. 

Between eleven and twelve o'clock Mr. Fisk woke, and turning slightly 
in the bed, said : — 

"Doctor, Doctor?" 

" Well, Mr. Fisk/' answered Dr. Fisher, " what do you want ? " 

"Ah 1 you are there." 

" Yes, sir, I am here. What can I do for you ? " 

'I want you to tell me if I have an even chance of recovery." 

"Keep up a good stout moral resolution and buoyant hope, Colonel; 
they often bridge us over a good many rough rivers." 

lie then dropped off to sleep again, and seemed to enjoy the repose he 
was getting. 

lie woke at half-past twelve and asked the doctors for water. They 
gave him a little, and he again went to sleep. 

A LITTLE AFTER ONE, SUNDAY MORNING, 

turning uneasily in the bed, he started from sleep, took a mouthful or 
two of water, and then turned back to sleep once more. 

AT TWO O'CLOCK 

Dr. Fisher noticed a little change in the pulse that seemed to indicate 
more alarming symptoms. Shortly after 

THREE O'CLOCK 

Bounded Mr. Fisk partially woke and went back again into the same 
heavy sleep as before. 

lie then continued to sleep on till half-past four, when he started up in 
great pain, and the doctors noticed that the pulse had run from 100 to 
120 and 130. 

Almost at the same moment a low sobbing sound, as of a lady in deep 
distress, was heard. It seemed to come from a chamber near ; but every 
one at that moment was too much engaged in the subject of the hour to 
pay any attention to it. 

From this time to the tragic close the doctors noticed Mr. Fisk began 
to sink rapidly, and there was no longer any hope of bis recovery. 

A short time after waking he fell into a comatose condition, from 
which he did not arouse. 

AT SIX O'CLOCK 

Mr. Fisk grew restless and his breathing was hard and irregular. 





I 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 57 



AT HALF-PAST SIX 

he said something in a broken voice, and closed his eyes as if in great 
pain ; but the doctor thought he was so much under the influence of mor- 
phine that he could not suffer very severely. 

At twenty minutes past six Mrs. Fisk arrived at the hotel from Boston. 
She was received by Mrs. Morse, and at once taken to the bedside of the 
dying Colonel. 

But it was too late; consciousness was gone, and the afflicted wife stood 
in the presence of her husband unrecognized and unknown. The rumor 
had somehow got into the streets that Mr. Fisk was in a critical condition, 
and crowds flocked to the hotel to learn the latest intelligence. 

The lower halls, even at that early hour, began to fill, and it was easy 
to see how great a favorite with the public the dying man had become. 
Among the concourse of men who were crowded together in the place 
there was but this one subject. 

Mr. Charles Spencer was the centre of an eager group, that listened to 
his opinions with as much attention as if he were discoursing in the 
forum. 

" Mr. Spencer," asked one, "would you call this a murder ? " 

"I would, sir, call it just exactly what it is — a cowardly, dastardly 
murder." 

" There are no extenuating circumstances? Jj 

"Not one that I can see ; and the punishment of the crime will be urged 
with all decent despatch." 

" There will be no chance of escape, I hope." 

"Well, I don't see any myself, and I think if there was I should be very 
likely to see it." 

"How about the insane dodge? " 

" Well, I don't think it will do this time. It would be a very difficult 
thing to sustain." 

" lie followed poor Fisk about all the afternoon." 

" Yes, sir. When we came down from Ywrkville, Judge Barnard told 
us about 

THE CHARGE OF BLACKMAILING 

made in the Court. I told Mr. McKeon about it, and he said he was 
uader the impression Stokes ought to know of the matter too. lie then 
told Stokes, I suppose, and this stung him so that he followed Fisk until 
he found him in this hotel and shot the man in that cowardly manner you 
have all read about in the newspapers." 

"Will those famous letters be brought out in the trial, Mr. Spencer? w 
"Well, I don't see what they can have to do with it; however, they 
may be brought out." 

h Have you seen any of them ? " 



53 THJfc FJLSK-STO&JBS TRAGEDY. 

" Well, no ; I have not exactly seen them, but I know from the Judge 
who read them that they contain nothing of any importance whatever. 
The Judge said to me, when he remarked on the subject, 'The cry about 
these letters, sir, is the most absolute tempest in a teapot I have ever seen/ " 

AT A QUARTER TO EIGHT 

the hotel was very crowded ; a number of gentlemen who had watched all 
through the night went into the ante-room, and sent word to the doctors 
they would like to get into the sick chamber as soon as the doctors would 
permit them. 

ABOUT HALF-PAST EIGHT 

a consultation of physicians was held, and then it was decided that nothing 
could be done for the dying Colonel. This information was carried down 
stairs and created a deep impression among the dense multitude below. 

AT TEN O'CLOCK 

the breathing began to be very hard, and respiration could only be made 
with difficulty. Every effort was then made to give some relief to the 
sufferer, but it seemed impossible to prolong his existence. The chest 
began to heave convulsively at intervals, and this was continued until 
he drew his last breath at 

FIFTEEN MINUTES TO ELEVEN. 

He died quietly, without a struggle, lying on his back, and recovered 
from the comatose state in which he fell after waking at half-past four. 
The news of the death spread rapidly in all parts of the city, and the im- 
mediate friends of the dead Colonel who were not at the hotel flocked 
there immediately on 

RECEIPT OF THE INTELLIGENCE. 

A large number of employes and protege's of Mr. Fisk went to the 
hotel, and it was astonishing to see the amount of feeling they displayed 
at the news of his death. One old man, who has held some office of trust 
under him for some years, burst into tears, exclaiming, "Ah, they may 
well talk of him who did not know him, but to those who were about him 
there never lived a kinder or better man." A gentleman standing in the 
lobby outside the chamber in which the body of the Colonel lay heard this 
remark, and, taking it up, said : — 

H I have always noticed that a really good man is loved by his servants, 
and I have never seen so much real feeling manifested at the death of a 
man before, although I have seen a good many die, under almost all kinds 
of circumstances." 

Pi You are right in that," said another. " It is not only the personal 
friends, but the general public who take an interest, such as I never before 
witnessed." ' 



ASSSASSSiJNATiUJ* OJ< JAMES FISK, JR. 59 

" The manner of his death has something to do with that, perhaps." 

" Well, it may ; but I don't think it has much to do with it. The act 
was a terrible one, and the way it was carried out was so cowardly and 
unlike anything an honest American would do that the people are indig- 
nant." 

Mrs. Fisk arrived at the hotel at 6.20 o'clock Sunday morning, in a 
state of terrible excitement. She had travelled nearly all night, and was 
almost exhausted from fatigue and anxiety. She was accompanied by a 
travelling companion, Miss Ilarrot, and arrived at the hotel in company 
with Mr. Comar, Mr. Fisk's private secretary, who had been in constant 
and faithful attendance upon him from a short time after he was wounded. 
Mrs. Fisk was met at the head of the stairs by Mrs. Morse, between whom 
a long and cordial friendship had existed. Upon repairing to the room 
of her husband, Mrs. Fisk gave vent to the most frantic exclamations of 
grief and endearment, which drew tears from the eyes of everyone present. 
By this time the wounded man had become entirely unconscious, and the 
wails and grief of his wife were never heard by him. At this time the 
room was occupied by a number of the relatives and friends of the sufferer, 
among whom were Mrs. James Fisk, Jr., Miss Ilarrot, Messrs. Moore and 
Sanderson, brothers-in-law of Mr. Fisk, and Messrs. Belden, Pollard, Aspell, 
George Burden and Drs. Fisher and Tripler. Mrs. Fisk was at the head 
of the bed, with her arms around the neck of the dying man, uttering 
lamentations and crying as if her heart would break. 

"Can nothing be done to save him? " asked the grief-stricken lady, of 
Dr. Fisher. "Alas! I fear not," replied the physician. Gradually the 
pulse increased ; the patient's breath grew shorter, and the breathing more 
labored. It was too evident that death was near. Around the bed were 
grouped the persons named above, who, with sobs and cries, gave evidence 
of the grief that was filling their hearts over the approaching loss of a 
near and dear friend. At twenty minutes before eleven the patient's 
breath grew quite short, and at times nearly stopped. Occasionally it 
became louder, and the pale and tear-stained faces near the patient for a 
moment grew brighter. The hope, however, proved an illusory one; for 
at a quarter before eleven the soul of James Fisk, Jr., sped from its earthly 
tenement and he lay stiff and lifeless. The scene in the chamber was sad 
in the extreme. The widow of the great Erie magnate moaned and sobbed 
and culled upon the attending physician to help him who was of earth no 
more; but the cry was in vain. All pitied her and mingled their tears 
with hers. Thus was sympathy the only consolation she was able to 
obtain from those who — many of them — would gladly have laid down their 
lives to save that which had just been returned to Ilim who gave it. Her 
prayer at his death was, "OR, God, if you must take him, take his soul !" 

The remains lay upon the bed in which Mr. Fisk was placed when first 
wounded. The sobbing mourners were finally induced to leave the room, 
and the body was, for a time, watched over by the grief-stricken colored 



60 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

valet, who bad for years attended Mr. Fisk. The room at this time 
in a state of great confusion. Tumblers and vials and bandages were 
scattered about upon ehairs, table, bureau, and floor. On the back of the 
bed lay a palm-leaf fan, which had been used to cool the brow of the late 
sufferer. The bead of the latter was bandaged with a napkin, and the 
features wore their usual calm expression. The shirt was stained with 
the blood that bad escaped from the wound, and the muscular arms were 
lying across the immense chest. At the he.vl ot the bed stood the colored 
valet, leaning his head upon his right hand, while with the other he 
caressed the form of his late master, occasionally placing it upon the bare 
arms, as if expecting that the Hesh would yet become warm again, and the 
soul of his late kind master once more return to the cold, clay form. 
Presently the undertaker arrived with a plain rosewood coffin, in which 
the body was temporarily- placed for removal to the late residence of Mr. 
Fisk, in West Twenty-third street. A heavy velvet pall was thrown over 
the coffin, which was placed upon chairs in the frout room, adjoining the 
ante-r<»om in which the murdered man died. The features looked 
extremely natural. The lineaments were well preserved; the face was, 
of course, pale, but com pa rati vely undiseolored, and the dead man looked 
as if enjoying a reposing sleep, instead of one from which he would never 
awake upon earth. The riorum of the rooms were then opened, aud per- 
mission given to those present to 

VI KW THE BOI»Y. 

Instantly the assembly of friends formed in single file, and commenced 
a shori pilgrimage to the casket that contained all that remained of their 
late friend or associate. The scene was mournful in the extreme. Old 
men burst into tears as their "aze rested upon the dead man, and young 
men — strong, hale, and hearty — utterly broke down under the grief with 
which the painful sight inspired them. Kven the clerks and messengers 
sobbed as if their hearts would break, and not a few were so carried away 
with Ljrief that they were led out and taken to seats until they could 
become calm enough feo leave the building. 

OIHSIDE THE HOTKL. 

The excitement of the Grand Central on Sunday morning continued 
unabated. The morning papers had made the news of the attempted 
assassination of Mr. Fisk more widespread, and the consequence was that 
thousands of people sought the hotel from a morbid curiosity to see every 
nook and corner of a place made memorable by the noted event. By 
three o'clock in the morning most of the friends of the injured man had 
taken their leave, and naught remained of the excitement of the night 
before but the anxious faces of the physicians and friends, who hovered 
at the bedside of the wounded sleeper. The gas in the room was turned 
down, so that a glimmering light made the scene more desolate than 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. «1 

before. Servants and hall boys slid around upon their errands on tip-toe, 
and the silence was unbroken save by the heavy breathing of the sleeper 
in the sick room. Even Mr. Tweed had become weary of watching, and 
«k>ok leave of his stricken friend at one o'clock. 

Tbus. one by one, the visitors departed, and the room was left deserted- 
save by the physicians in charge. Almost at daylight, however, the 
throng of friends and "curiosity-seekers again began to assemble in the 
corridors and lobby of the elegaut hostelry, and the guests, descending 
from their rooms to breakfast, encountered many of those who had helped 
to crowd the hotel the evening before. 

Thousands of people came to hear what further intelligence could be 
obtained of the condition of the sufferer. The Ninth Regiment was 
largely represented. Indeed, it seemed as if the whole regiment had 
assembled. Officers and privates mingled together with sad countenances, 
eagerly discussing the details of the mournful event. Many anecdotes 
were related of the acts and humorous incidents of Mr. Fisk's military 
career. " It was only on the 12th of July last," said Adjutant Allen, 
"that Col. Fisk remarked to the regiment at the armory, ' Well, boys, if 
there is not a large turnout to-day, 1 am pretty sure there will be at my 
funeral.' This remark was almost always repeated whenever there was 
a slim attendance at parade. At a meetiug of the officers of the regiment 
on Tuesday evening, Mr. Fisk gave $11,000 to the different compauies. 
'The boys will need new uniforms soon,' said he, 'and as there is owing 
to me some $1000, I will give it to them and add to it $10,000 more.' 
This is but one of the many liberal acts toward the regiment," concluded 
the Adjutant, "which have given it the enviable position it now occupies 
in the National Guard." 

Outside the hotel there was also a clamorous crowd. Some tried to get 
in at the private door, but as orders had Wen issued to allow none to 
enter but the guests of the hotel, these efforts were, as a general thing, 
unsuccessful. The curiosity of these people, however, was partially satis- 
fied by being allowed to peer through the dotfr at the stairs upon which 
the victim stood when shot. Even on the opposite side of Broadway stood 
crowds of men, women, and children, staring at the stately edifice as if 
expecting that the walls would become animate, and tell all they knew 
about the bloody deed. As the hour of noon approached, the crowd, both 
inside and out, increased to such an extent that it became almost impossi- 
ble to enter the hotel at all. 

AFTER DEATH. 

The news passed quickly, and in a few minutes was known far and 
wide. When life was gone, Mrs. Fisk was assisted to her room, where 
she remained in strict seclusion afterward, and Captain Byrnes entering, 
took possession of the body, to await the arrival of Coroner Young, for 
whom a messenger was immediately sent. He arrived at 11 J o'clock, and 



62 THE FISK^STOKES TRAGEDY. 

consumed an hour in determining his future proceedings in the case. At 
last it was arranged that the body should be removed to the late residence 
of the deceased, No. 313 West Twenty-third street, where the post-mortem 
should be made at 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and where it should be 
viewed by the jury to be summoned in the case at 11 o'clock, after which 
the inquest would be held at the City Ilall at 3 o'clock. 

Before the body was removed from the bed, James Fisk, Jr., seemed 
only asleep. The color was indeed gone from the massive face, but it had 
lost none of its fulness ; the eyes were closed, as when he died, and ail 
marks of the violence of which he was the victim were hidden under the 
bed-covering. Even after the body was placed in the coffin, and exposed 
to view in the parlor attached to the bedroom, there was hardly a sign 
of death in the smooth, placid face. Ilundreds viewed it as it was thus 
exposed, and while they went and came, Jay Gould sat a few feet from 
the coffin. At last the ordeal was too severe for even the iron nerves of 
Jay Gould, and long before the coffin was closed he disappeared, and was 
not again seen in the hotel. 

After an hour had elapsed, the dead man was left alone with the hired 
attendants and curious strangers. Of the scores with whom he had cdn- 
spired, of the hundreds whom he had befriended, not one remained. But 
the exit of the body from the scene of the tragedy was to be both drama- 
tic and suggestive. Just before the coffin was closed, William M. Tweed 
furtively entered the room. Then the coffin was closed, was taken up by 
the men of the undertaker, and borne from the room. Tweed followed, 
and the crowd being kept back by Patrolmen Westerman and Warren, 
the coffin was carried up a narrow private stairway to the floor above. 
Through the corridors of this floor it was borne to the stairs on the other 
side of the building, and down these to the southern Mercer street entrance. 
To this point Tweed had followed up stairs and down stairs, and through 
all the winding corridors, with his bowed head uncovered. But, arriving 
at this point, he paused, gazed a moment at the coffin which contained all 
that was mortal of his friend, and, turning, retraced his steps. Then the 
body of James Fisk, Jr., was taken through the kitchen door out of the 
house in which he had been slain, placed in a hearse, and carried hastily 
to No. 313 West Twenty-third street. 

The crowds disappeared after the corpse was taken away, and even in 
the death-chamber not a trace of the tragedy remained. The bed in which 
Fisk had died was changed, the room was arranged, and the clothes which 
he had worn when he was shot were made up into parcels and taken 
away to await the order of the widow. Although the crime was every- 
where the subject of conversation, there were during the afternoon no 
noticeable crowds to be seen at the Grand Central Hotel. About the 
house in Twenty-third street, to which the body was removed, the curious 
gathered to some extent, but were easily kept in order by. the few police- 
men detailed bv Captain Williamson to guard the premises. At five 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 65 

o'clock the physicians assembled at the house, but, upon examining ihe 
body, Dr. E. T. T. Marsh, Deputy Coroner, determined that it was yet too 
warm to justify a post-mortem examination being made, and that proceed- 
ing was accordingly postponed by him until nine o'clock in the evening. 
After the body was taken to the house, it was in charge of the relatives 
and friends of the deceased exclusively, and no one was allowed to enter 
the house except by their permission.^ The mother of the deceased was 
with the corpse soon after death, but Mr. Fisk, Sr., was so prostrated by 
the sudden blow, that his physicians declared that it was unsafe to permit 
him to leave his home. 

THE POST-MORTEM EXAMINATION. 

At nine o'clock the several eminent medical gentlemen asked to be 
present during the post-mortem examination had gathered in the front 
parlor of the residence of Mr. Fisk, and upon invitation of Coroner Young 
proceeded through the hall to the back parlor. The room is modestly 
furnished. Two bureaus ornamented with medium sized mirrors, and 
over the mantel a third mirror is hung, which, with a single pastoral 
sketch depending from a blue cord between the windows, and the addi- 
tional furniture, gives the apartment a pleasant but not by any means 
luxurious appearance. In a large box placed beneath the mantel lay the 
body of the deceased, covered to the chin with an appropriate mantle. At 
fifteen minutes past nine o'clock, Drs. E. T. T. Marsh, the Coroner's deputy, 
and E. G. Jane way, of Belle vue Hospital, signified their readiness to pro- 
ceed in the work, and the body was carefully lifted to a table placed in 
the centre of the room to receive it. Around it there gathered the dis- 
tinguished gentlemen, among whom were Drs. Sayre, Carnochan, Phelps, 
Finnell, Fisher, White, Chauncey, Milford,' Marsh, and Professors Sims 
and Wood. 

With that caution the case demanded, the examination proceeded. First 
the measurement necessary regarding the wounds from portions of the 
body were made, and then the probing began. That in the left arm 
through which the ball passed received attention, and then the body was 
opened to find the bullet which caused death. During these operations 
many of the medical gentlemen present spoke in terms of admiration of 
the deceased's appearance, and the life-like nature of his face, his fine, 
weli-balanced head, which had the organ of ideality remarkably developed. 
His magnificent physique was also freely commented upon. Little by 
little the course of the deadly bullet was traced, and when reached it was 
found to have taken an oblique direction from right to left, having trav- 
elled the distance of full twenty inches through his intestines. Afterward 
it was demonstrated that the kidneys, liver, heart, and lungs of the de- 
ceased were in a normal condition, and had no accident happened him, 
Mr. Fisk would have lived to a green old age. His heart weighed sixteen 
ounces, and his brain fifty -eight ounces. Altogether, the assembled array 
5 



66 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

of doctors and surgeons pronounced him a remarkable physicial specimen 
of humanity. 

The post-mortem examination, as sworn to by Drs. Marsh and Janeway 
is appended : — 

E. T. T. Marsh, M.D., being sworn, says :— That on January 7, 1872, at 
313 West Twenty -third street, at fifteen minutes past nine P. M., assisted 
by Dr. E. G. Janeway, made postmortem examination of the body of 
James Fisk, Jr. The body was well nourished. Rigor mortis well 
marked. General appearance of body blanched. Post-mortem discolora- 
tion about neck, body and on posterior of body. Pupils of both eyes 
normal. On the right side of abdomen, six inches below the right nipple, 
one and a half inches to right of medium line, six inches above the umbi- 
licus and eleven inches from the upper border of the sternum, a wound, 
circular and half an inch in diameter, was found. A second wound, 
oval in shape, one-half inch by one-quarter inch, with ragged edges, 
was found on%the anterior surface of left arm, one inch above the bend 
of the elbow. The direction of the wound was ascertained by a probe, 
being upwards, backwards and inwards, through the tissues of the arm, 
and passing out of the posterior surface of the arm, five inches above the 
olecranon process. On introducing a probe in the abdominal wound a 
quantity of gas emitting a faecal odor escaped. An abdominal section 
being made, the wound was found to extend through the abdominal walls, 
passing downwards (obliquely) and to the left. Adipose tissue of the 
walls of the abdomen was two inches in thickness. Several clots of 
blood were found on the surface of the omentum. The folds of the smal 
intestines were found agglutinated by recent inflammatory exudation 
Rugged openings with bloody edges were found in the omentum, close to 
the attachments of the tran verse colon and in two wrinkles of the upper 
portion of the ileum. The intestines were empty, with the exception of 
the large intestines, which contained faecal matter. A ragged opening 
was also found in the mesentery and in the sigmoid flexure of the colon. 
An opening was found in the peritoneum at a point midway between the 
anterior superior spinus process of ilium and the pubes below Poupart's 
ligament, passing through the muscular fasciculi of the psoas magnus and 
terminating three and a half inches below the pubes in thigh, close to the 
insertion of the psoas magnus, at which point a small conical bullet was 
found embedded. There was half a pint of blood fluid found in the 
abdominal cavity. The kidneys were normal ; the spleen healthy ; the 
liver slightly fatty. The gall bladder was found to contain a calculus, the 
size of a hazelnut. The heart weighed sixteen ounces. The right side 
of the heart was filled with coagula and the left empty. Structure of the 
walls t>f the heart was healthy, and also were the valves. Both lungs were 
normal. Removing the scalp it was found bloodless. Removing the 
calvarium the brain was taken out and found to weigh fifty-eight ounces. 
(Cerebellum weighed seven ounces, with pons Varolii, which weighed one 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR 6T 

ounce; cerebrum fifty-one ounces). The brain healthy. Death, in our 
Opinion, was due to shock and peritonitis from a pistol slaot wound of 
abdomen. 

CAUSE OF THE MURDER. 

The origin of the difficulty dates back nearly two years. Col. Fisk 
and Stokes were interested in an oil company which furnished all the oil 
that was used by the Erie Railway Company. Fisk and Stokes became 
intimate friends. Stokes seemed a smart, energetic young man, and grew 
rapidly in Fisk's favor. The profits of the oil business were very great. 
Stokes became a frequent visitor at Col. Fisk's rooms in the Grand Opera 
House. They were continually together. So intimate were they that 
Stokes repeatedly dined with Col. Fisk at the house of Mrs. Mansfield- 
Lawlor. Mrs. Lawlor was Col. Fisk's mistress. The Colonel became 
acquainted with her accidentally when she was in want, clothed her in 
silks and satins, sprinkled her with diamonds and other- gems, gave her a 
rich mansion with a brown stone front, furnished it sumptuously, and 
placed carriages and servants at her disposal. So infatuated did he be- 
come that he repeatedly appeared in public with her, despite the earnest 
protestations of his friends. He laughed at the newspaper exposures of 
his shame, and was finally debarred from fashionable society. Col. Fisk's 
friends were deeply grieved, but they remained true to him ; for whatever 
may have been his faults, he always stood to his friends to the last. They 
repeatedly endeavored to extricate him from the toils of Circe, but in 
vain. His genial nature, rollicking humor, open-handed generosity, and 
energetic business qualities endeared him to all who were intimate with 
him, and they finally resolved to endure what they could not cure — the 
Colonel's open attachment to Mrs. Mansfield. 

THE RUPTURE. 

It was at this time that Col. Fisk became intimate with Stokes, and 
invited him to dine at Mrs. Mansfield's house. Stokes was about five feet 
nine inches in height, and his body well knit. His head was covered 
with glossy curls. His complexion clear, his features regular, and his 
eyes dark blue. His forehead was white but not high. He dressed in 
the height of fashion, with a tendency to gaudiness, and generally wore 
large diamonds. He was a fluent talker, and very quick of motion. He 
spol^ rapidly and used many gestures. Col. Fisk seemed to have con- 
fided entirely to Stokes's sense of honor and to Mrs. Mansfield's sense of 
gratitude. Apparently he had not the least notion that Stokes would 
eudeavor to supplant him in her affections. Stokes, however, appears to 
have fallen in love with Mrs. Mansfield at first sight. His attachment 
was apparently reciprocated, and the readiness with which Mrs. Mansfield 
transferred her affections from Col. Fisk to his assassin gives an air of 
strong probability to the rumor that she had deliberately trapped Col. 



68 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

Fisk for his money. The attachment between Stokes and Mrs. Mansfield 
was not discovered bj Col. Fisk until weeks had elapsed. Meanwhile 
the Colonel was paying for the very dinners at Mrs. Mansfield's house to 
which he had invited his friend Stokes. Though warned by his friends 
of what was occurring, he refused to believe it, and it was not until he 
had assured himself from conversations with Mrs. Mansfield that the re- 
ports were true, that his eyes were opened. 

THE FIRST MOVE. 

The Colonel moved with his usual energy. He forbade Stokes's visit 
to his house. He reasoned with Stokes, but to no purpose. His pro- 
testations had no effect on Mrs. Mansfield. The next movement was a 
startling one. Stokes was arrested one Saturday night on charge of 
embezzling the oil company's funds. He was kept in prison until Mon 
day. When released on bail he retaliated, and Fisk was arrested on an 
accusation of conspiracy and false imprisonment. The fight was a bitter 
one. It benefited no one but the lawyers. Fisk then rescinded the verbal 
contracts by which the oil company supplied Erie with oil. Of coursa 
this forced the stock of the oil company down, and Fisk, it is understood, 
bought in Stokes's interest for $100,000. Fisk and Stokes also had a meet 
ing at Delmonico's, and endeavored to settle their difficulty, but in vain. 

THE SECOND MOVE. 

Mrs. Mansfield now joined her energies to those of Stokes. She claimed 
that Fisk owed her some $40,000, and in proof of this claim put in copies 
of a batch of love-letters written to her by Col. Fisk, which were said to 
expose all the secret operations of the Erie and the Tammany Rings. 
Fisk secured an injunction from Judge Pratt forbidding the publication of 
the letters, as they were ruled to be scandalous and irrelevant. 

During the pending of certain suits between Mr. Stokes and Col. Fisk, 
Mrs. Mansfield gave the original letters to Stokes, who immediately made 
use of them. He held them over Fisk's head and threatened their publi- 
cation. Fisk acted like a diplomat. He submitted a proposition to Mr. 
Stokes for arbitration. Stokes, against the advice of his counsel, accepted 
Mr. Clarence Seward, one of Fisk's counsel, as an arbitrator. The letters 
were placed in Mr. Peter B. Sweeney's hands for safe-keeping. Mr. Seward 
ound against Stokes on all points but one, awarding him $10,000 as the 
price of the letters. Stokes complained that he had been swindled. 
Nevertheless, he accepted the $10,000 and never paid it back. One of the 
main points of Col. Fisk's request for an injunction against the publica- 
tion of the letters was that they had been made the basis of new affidavits 
in Mansfield's complaint, after Stokes had received the $10,000, and agreed 
that the letters should be suppressed. At the expiration of the time for 
which Judge Pratt's injunction had been granted, Col. Fisk's counsel made 
a motion before Judge John R. Brady for a continuance of the hy unction. 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 6* 

THE THIRD MOVE. 

In an attempt to show that. Stokes and Mrs. Mansfield were endeavor- 
ing to blackmail him, Col. Fisk used an affidavit of Richard E. King, a 
colored boy in Mrs. Mansfield's service. This affidavit purported to detail 
a conversation, overheard between Stokes and Mrs. Mansfield, relative to 
Fisk's letters, which Mrs. Mansfield had placed in Stokes's possession. 
The conversation, if true, proved that there was a deliberate attempt to 
blackmail the Colonel out of all the money possible. Stokes's next move 
was to prefer a charge against Fisk, in a police court, for subornation of 
perjury, in inducing King to swear to his affidavit. This is the case 
which had been dragging along its weary length in Justice Bixby's Court 
during the previous few weeks. 

THE IMMEDIATE CAUSE OF THE ASSASSINATION. 

On Friday, January 5th, 1872, Judge Brady rendered his decision con- 
tinuing his injunction against the publication of the letters. This was a 
bitter blow to Stokes. On the following day, Mrs. Mansfield's charge of 
subornation of perjury was continued in the Yorkville Police Court. 
Mrs. Mansfield and Stokes were both present. Mrs. Mansfield was placed 
on the stand. Her cross-examination was^ very severe. Mr. Fisk's 
lawyers endeavored to draw out of her an acknowledgment that the 
Colonel had picked her up when she had but one dress in the world, and 
not enough money to pay her rent. They asked her whether she did 
not engage the notorious Miss Annie Woods to procure for her an intro- 
duction to Col. Fisk. They endeavored to show that she was deliberately 
bleeding Col. Fisk, and that she afterwards said to Miss Woods that Mr. 
Fisk had taken a great fancy to her (Mrs. Mansfield), and that in proof 
of her assertion she showed Miss Woods some costly diamonds and silk 
dresses, which she said Fisk had given her. They endeavored to prove 
that Miss Woods told Mrs. Mansfield that she had been with Fisk long 
enough to have got more than that, if she was smart, and that Mrs. 
Mansfield replied that she didn't mean to beat him too fast. They 
endeavored to make Mrs. Mansfield admit that she told Miss Woods that 
she did not love Mr. Fisk, but only loved his money; that he was not 
the style of man she liked ; that she would get all the money she could 
from him, and then let him go. Fisk's lawyers further endeavored to 
show that in a conversation with Miss Nully Peiris, Mrs. Mansfield said 
that she intended to blackmail Fisk out of all the money she could, 
and that if Miss Peiris would assist her she should have her share. 
During this terrible cross-examination Mrs. Mansfield, for the first 
time in her life, became intensely agitated, and finally broke down 
in a flood of tears. Stokes was fearfully agitated. Judge Brady's 
decision and Mrs. Mansfield's cross-examination excited him to a terrible 
pitch. 



to THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 



THE LAST FEATHER. 



After the adjournment of the Court, Stokes entered a carriage with 
Gol. John R. Fellows and the Hon. John McKeon, the prosecuting 
attorneys in the case. On his way down he asked whether it was 
possible that there was no way left for him to get the better of Fisk. lie 
drove to Delmonico's, and there the party separated. 

Meanwhile the District Attorney had brought the attempt to blackmail 
Col. Fisk to the attention of the Grand Jury. On Saturday, it was said, 
the Grand Jury brought in an indictment against both Stokes and Mrs. 
Mansfield. It was reported during the afternoon that a bench warrant 
was out for the arrest of Stokes and Mansfield, and sent to the sheriff's 
office for service. 

After leaving Delmonico's, Stokes appears to have gone to Mrs. Mans- 
field's house, though Mrs. Mansfield denied this. They are believed to 
have conversed together over an hour. Then a ring was heard at the 
door. 

A WARNING 

One of Stokes's friends entered and announced that the Grand Jury had 
found an indictment, that a warrant was in the hands of Deputy Sheriff 
Judson Jarvis, and that Jarvis was then on his way to serve it. A warrant 
may have been in existence, but it was certainly not placed in Jarvis's 
hands. We are informed that upon hearing this news, Stokes lost all 
control over himself, and declared that Fisk had signed his death warrant, 
or used words of similar import. He was in a raving passion, and left 
the house determined to murder Col. Fisk at the first opportunity. It 
was reported that before Stokes reached Mrs. Mansfield's, Col. Fisk had 
called upon her and expressed his regret at the severity of her cross- 
examination, and that he had agreed to give her $15,000 in settlement of 
the dispute. If this was so, it is possible that Col. Fisk may have told 
Mrs. Mansfield that he was about to call on Mrs. Morse at the Grand 
Central Hotel. 

THE ASSASSIN SEEKING HIS VICTIM. 

One thing is certain, Stokes knew where to find Fisk. After leaving 
Mrs. Mansfield's house he inquired for the Colonel at the Grand Opera 
House, and at half-past three o'clock John Chamberlain saw him in a 
coupe* on Eighth avenue, anxiously watching the windows of Col. Fisk's 
room. How long Stokes lurked about the Grand Opera House is un- 
known. He may have waited until he saw Col. Fisk step out of the 
Opera House and enter his carriage. 

The man who carried the information to Stokes that a bench warrant 
had been issued for his arrest, and who accompanied him in the coupe to 
the Grand Central Hotel, and who is supposed to have changed hats with 
Stokes and concealed the pistol for him, was arrested and confined in the 






\ 





/ 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMBS FISK, JR T8 

Mercer street station. The driver of the coupe* was also arrested and 
locked up. 

After Stokes left Delmonico's on Saturday he jumped into a coupe* 
fini drove down town. He stopped at a gunsmith's on Broadway, near 
Wcrren street, and purchased the pistol and had it loaded. He then 
dr>cve up to Mrs. Mansfield's house, where he remained seated in the par- 
lor for some time in conversation with Mrs. Mansfield and Mrs. Williams. 
V/hile there he was informed by a friend that Judson Jarvis was hunting 
!j:m with the bench warrant. The coupe* by his orders was waiting for 
i jim at the door of the house. Hastily donning his coat and hat, he and 
uis friend got into the coupe*. As they drove past the Opera House the 
carriage of Col. Fisk was standing at the Twenty-third street entrance, 
just ready to drive off. The Colonel was in it. Stokes saw him and 
orouched in the bottom of the coupe'. He ordered the driver to drive 
direct to the Grand Central Hotel. They arrived only a few seconds 
before the carriage of Col. Fisk. Stokes and his friend went into the 
hotel and up stairs by the general stairway. When the Colonel arrived 
he inquired for Miss Morse, and after obtaining the required information 
started to go up by the ladies' stairs. Stokes had gone around through 
the hall and met the Colonel as he was going up the stairs. It was then 
and there that he assassinated him as described above. 

It is denied that any indictments had be»n found against Stokes, or that 
any person had ever intimated to him that such had been the case. The 
friends of Mr. Stokes assert that he had carried the revolver with which 
he shot Col. Fisk for the last six months. They maintain that he believed 
his life to be constantly in danger from some of Col. Fisk's retainers, and 
that he carried the weapon to defend himself with if necessary ; and fur- 
thermore, that he was a monomaniac on the subject of his difficulties with 
the murdered man. 

Mr. Stokes's friends say that many physicians condemn in unmeasured 
terms the action of the surgeons in probing the wound in the abdomen. 
They hold that the condition of the wounded man was such that this course 
accelerated, if it was not the direct cause of his death. The testimony of 
eminent surgeons on this point will probably constitute a conspicuous 
feature of the trial. 

It has been reported that Stokes stumbled and fell to the ground while 
attempting to escape through the Meroer street exit of the Grand Central 
Hotel. In conversation with some of his friends, however, Stokes posi 
tively contradicted this assertion. 

AN INTERESTING FACT. 

Commissioner Manierre on Sunday evening said that the death of Col. 
fisk was a greater loss to the police than many supposed. On the 
previous Friday, Col. Fisk called on the Treasurer of the Police Depart- 
ment and said he understood that the police had not been paid as usual 



U THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

on the 1st of the month. On being informed that such was the case, he 
told him that he would call the next day and have the money ($250,000) 
ready for their use, if they required it, so that the men might be paid off 
as soon as possible. 

STOKES IN THE TOMBS — AN INTERVIEW WITH HIM — HIS COOLNESS. 

The Captain of Police, fearing that the prisoner would commit suiciae, 
or injure himself in an attempt to do so, placed an officer at his door to 
watch him and prevent it. This precaution was scarcely needed, as the 
prisoner laid down soon after he was locked up, and slept for several 
hours quite soundly. At nine A. M., Sunday morning, a carriage ordered 
by the Police Captain stopped before the door of the station house, and 
Stokes was brought up from his cell, his dress looking neat, and bearing 
but little evidence of his confinement. He stepped lightly into the car- 
riage, and was followed by the Captain and Officer Henderson. On the 
way to the Tombs he chatted indifferently with the Captain, and asked 
him if he would get him a bottle of wine, as his stomach was out of 
order. The Captain refused. Stokes then begged the Captain to stop 
and let him have a drink at some bar-room. This request was also re- 
fused, and Stokes finally ceased his importunities. The Captain remarked 
that Mr. Fisk was very low and not expected to live. "I shot him in the 
abdomen, didn't I ? " said Stokes ; a I saw a wound there when they were 
carrying him off." The Captain described the nature of Fisk's injuries. 
" I heard the Ninth Regiment fellows were going to turn Mansfield's house 
inside out last night. Is that true ? If some of those Erie fellows were 
to run across me they would meet their match," he added. 

Commissioner Smith was in waiting when the prisoner arrived at the 
Tombs, and his name was entered in the ordinary manner. He was 
simply imprisoned under a commitment from the Coroner, to await the 
result of his victim's injuries. As he was crossing the Tombs' courtyard, 
he said to the Police Captain, " One year ago to-day Fisk had me arrested 
for embezzling $65,000." When he reached the third tier of cells, to 
which quarter of the prison he had been assigned, he observed Haggerty, 
the voucher thief, in one of the cells. " How do you do, Ed ? " he said, 
with a smile, and looking into the cell, he said, " Why you have got 
comfortable quarters here." He was then locked up with another 
prisoner in cell No. 73, but not until after a remonstrance with the Cap- 
tain, and a request that he might be locked up alone. His request could 
not be acceded to, and he was left with his new acquaintance. 

Subsequently Stokes was removed from cell No. 73 to cell No. 50, and 
left to brood over the fearful strait to which his rash deed had brought 
him. He lost his hitherto cool and nonchalant bearing, and signs of 
great inward excitement were apparent. During the afternoon a consulta- 
tion of counsel retained by his friends was held in the prison office, 
Messrs. John Graham, John McKeon, Willard O. Bartlett, and Roger A. 



• 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. T5 

Pryor were the lawyers. The consultation lasted for one hour and a half, 
and its purport was, of course, kept secret. 

AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW WITH THE PRISONER. 

Stokes, accompanied by his brother, who never left him during the 
day, was then permitted to arrange his toilet. Some friend, previous to 
his coming, brought to the Tombs a satchel, containing a change of linen 
and several toilet articles, which enabled the prisoner to dress with that 
scrupulous neatness which had always characterized his daily appearance 
on Broadway. The morning papers had been read by almost every 
inmate of the prison, and at every grating could be seen the pale, wan 
face of a prisoner, anxiously watching his arrival. His composure was 
the general theme of conversation among the officials. After eating his 
breakfast, he was visited by a reporter, with whom the prisoner was 
acquainted. Warden Stacom, at Stokes request, permitted him to come 
down into the reception-room, where he conversed with the reporter in 
company with the prisoner's brother. In his greeting there was almost 
an air of jollity. Stokes had changed his attire, being dressed in a loose- 
fitting pea-jacket and light-gray pantaloons. Nestling in the folds of his 
spotless ruffled shirt bosom was his solitaire brilliant. He seemed loth 
to refer to the subject which was the all-absorbing topic of the day, and a 
stranger would never have suspected that he was the principal actor in 
the bloody drama of the day previous. 

The following is the conversation : 

Eeporter. — Mr. Stokes, I am sorry to meet you here, with this terrible 
crime hanging over your head. 

Mr. Stokes. — You need have no fears for me. I am no murderer. 1 
have read the papers, and I assure you there is a tale yet untold. 

Reporter. — Can you bear to hear the worst ? (He had not been 
informed of Col. Fisk's death.) 

Mr. Stokes. — Certainly ; I can bear to hear anything. 

Reporter. — Mr. Fisk is dead. 

Mr. Stokes. — Is that so? (Calmly.) 

Reporter. — Yes ; he died about an hour ago. 

Mr. Stokes. — Well ; it is a sad loss to the business community ; but the 
papers should not prejudge me by calling me a murderer. Some of the 
narratives read like a romance. I never wished Col. Fisk personal harm, 
and never dreamed of offering him any. I could say more, but you can 
certainly appreciate my position. My counsel have closed my lips. 

Reporter. — Did you follow Col. Fisk's carriage down Broadway yes- 
terday ? 

Mr. Stokes. — That statement is preposterous ; I rode down from the 
Yorkvilie Court yesterday afternoon in company with Assistant District- 
Attorney Fellows and Mr. John McKeon ; we stopped at Delmonico's, 
corner of Chambers sti^et, and took some lunch. 



76 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

Reporter. — Did not Judge Barnard say there that there was a bench 
warrant out for you — you having been indicted by the grand jury ? 

Mr. Stokes. — I did not see Judge Barnard on Saturday, and had no 
knowledge from any source of there being any indictment found against 
me* ; had I heard such a thing I would not have believed it, for I know 
there was nothing to warrant such a proceeding. 

Reporter. — It is the general impression that Mr. Beach's severe exami- 
nation of Mrs. Mansfield, added to the alleged remark of Judge Barnard, 
drove you to desperation, and that you intercepted Mr. Fisk on Broad- 
way and followed him to the Grand Central Hotel. 

Mr. Stokes. — There is not one syllable of truth in that report ; I never 
dreamed that Col. Fisk was out of his house ; I supposed him confined 
to his room with an attack of varioloid ; there was nothing occurred at 
the Yorkville Court to discompose me: on the contrary, I think the case 
was much in my favor. I had considerable business to attend to in the 
afternoon; I had an engagement with a well known gentleman at Amity 
street and Broadway regarding a trot to come off at Providence ; I also 
telegraphed a gentleman requesting his presence here this week. Here 
Mr. Stokes remarked that he was disobeying the instructions of his coun- 
sel, and, therefore, could not speak further. 

Reporter. — Do you have any fear for the result as regards yourself? 
Here Mr. Stokes took a small wallet from his pocket. 

Mr. Stokes. — Do you see that wallet? Well, as sure as you see it, 
just as sure will I be acquitted by any jury that can be impanelled. 

Mr. Stokes here excused himself, and tapped on the window of the door 
for Warden Stacom. The Warden asked him if he wished to return to his 
quarters. Mr. Stokes replied, " I merely wished to trouble you for a match 
to light my cigar." 

Mr. Stokes concluded by again assuring the reporter that it would be 
impolitic for him to say anything further, and he hoped that the reporter 
would not attribute his reticence to indifference. 

At three o'clock Sunday evening Stokes was reported to be in a better 
physical condition, and more calm and composed in mind. Miss Comstock, 
a relative, and a number of his intimate friends called upon him during 
the afternoon. He was visited by his two brothers. The younger brother 
had along interview with his unfortunate relative, and left him apparently 
in great sorrow. About seven o'clock the doors of all the cells were 
ordered to be double locked, and Superintendent Kelso and Inspector 
Jameson and 250 police officers, were quartered in the prison. 

This force belonged to the reserves of the Police Department, and was 
summoned to the Tombs, where they were divided into squads and distri- 
buted around the prison in positions where they might effectually resist 
any attack made from the outside by a riotously disposed mob. Superin- 
tendant Kelso had been informed that the Ninth Regiment intended to march 
down from the armory to the Tombs and, having bursted in the door of 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 71 

the prison, they were then to take Stokes from the cell and hang him in 
the quadrangle of the jail in revenge for his slaying Mr. Fisk. If any 
such intention on the part of the Ninth Regiment had been manifested, the 
promptness with which the police were moved to the Tombs, and the pre- 
parations made therein for the reception of the supposed mob, would have 
effectually prevented the success of any such violent and unlawful measure. 
When Stokes was informed of the fact that the Ninth Regiment was 
expected at the prison to lynch him, he merely remarked, " I can die only 
once, and I have never yet been afraid to die." 

Similar threats were said to have been made with regard to Mrs. Mans- 
field and her house, and both were guarded throughout Sunday night by 
thirty reserves of police. No effort was made however to disturb her. 

The prisoner slept soundly on Sunday night, and arose on Monday 
morning at 7} o'clock. He breakfasted with a good appetite at 9 o'clock, 
after which he scanned the morning papers, which were brought him at 
his request. As he read them, one of his jailors says, a smile occasionally 
played over his face as his eye met some allusion to himself, and occa- 
sionally he would frown, and there would be an angry flash in his eyes. 
Soon after his breakfast, he was visited by a younger brother, with whom 
he spent a considerable time in conversation. He appeared to feel his 
position somewhat more than he did on Sunday, inasmuch as he was more 
quiet and thoughtful. The prisoner, during Sunday night, was confined 
in cell No. 50, in the second tier, a wretched abode, without the slightest 
attempt at comfort or even cleanliness apparent in it. 

At 10 o'clock he was taken from No. 50 and placed in cell No. 57. As 
he passed from his cell, every other prisoner advanced to his prison bars to 
gain a sight of their distinguished companion. No. 57, the cell in which 
he was placed while No. 50 was being cleaned and made more habitable, 
has been the abiding place of Haggerty, who is awaiting trial for the 
voucher robbery, for a considerable time. On entering, Stokes sat quietly 
down on a chair, taking^very little notice of anything around him. At 
11 J o'clock his brother again visited him, having been sent to the Hoff- 
man House to procure some clothing and toilet necessities. He was 
shortly afterward dispatched again, and soon after returned with some 
collars, cuffs and socks, and some half dozen cravats. About midday 
Stokes was removed to his old cell, No. 50, which had in the meantime 
been made decent. During the afternoon a rumor prevailed throughout 
the city that he had committed suicide, but when it became known about 
an hour afterward that he had appeared before the Coroner, of course the 
alarm subsided. 

The prisoner was also visited during the day by his lawyers, who held 
a long consultation with him. 



78 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF EDWARD S. STOKES. 

Edward S. Stokes was born in Philadelphia in the year 1841, and is 
now in his thirty-first year. His parents were people in very comfort- 
able circumstances, and moved in the best society in the Quaker City* 
When quite a young lad he came to New York with his family, and many 
of its oldest citizens will remember the firm of Stokes & Budlong, the 
principal member of the firm being the father of Edward S. Stokes, who 
has for the last twelve months been the theme of newspaper articles from 
Maine to the Rio Grande. Stokes was always in early life fond of athletic 
sports, and until lately was considered a gymnast by those who knew him 
best. He was educated at. the High School in Philadelphia, and received 
a first-class English and Latin education. He was quick to learn and 
very proficient in his studies. He was with his father's firm in the pro- 
vision business in Chambers street, New York, at an early age, and 
manifested great energy and business tact. He had one great fault, how- 
ever. His blood was hot, and being of a nervous, sanguine tempei <xment, 
he was liable at any moment to break out when he deemed himself im- 
posed upon or outraged. He has always been sensitive to an insult, and 
quick to resent an injury. Stokes is five feet nine inches high, and 
weighs 1 about one hundred and forty pounds. He is slightly built, but is 
very wiry and active on his feet. In conversation he talks quickly and 
to the point, and hurries his affairs through as rapidly as possible. Stokes 
is a man of fine personal appearance, of a dark complexion, with piercing 
black eyes and regular features. His hair, which was jet black a couple 
of years ago, is now partly gray, and were it not for his active move- 
ments he would pass for a man of forty-five years. Mr. Stokes married 
a lady of good family some ten years ago, and has by her one child, a 
very beautiful girl of nine years of age. In June, 1871, Mrs. Stokes, 
who was in bad health, visited Europe to seek some benefit from the 
mineral springs of Central Germany, and when last heard from, as late as 
December 3d, was in Paris. The family while in New York had an ele- 
gant suite of apartments at the Worth House, corner of Fifth avenue and 
Twenty-sixth street. These apartments were furnished with every article 
of luxury and refinement that taste could devise or that money could buy. 
Nearly a year and a half ago, Mr. Stokes became acquainted with Mr. 
Fisk, and through the introduction of the latter he made the acquaintance 
of Helen Josephine Mansfield, the ci-devant wife of Frank Lawlor, an 
actor of moderate ability. An intimacy sprung up between the two, 
which has resulted in the shooting of James Fisk. This fatal intimacy 
was the cause of serious trouble between Edward Stokes and his wife, 
and although there is a great deal of affection subsisting between the 
couple, yet human nature is weak, and such wandering from the straight 
course is certain to bring serious trouble. It is hard to tell whether there 
be any real feeling of affection on the part of Helen Mansfield toward 




HELEN JOSEPHINE MANSFIELD. 
$clenr 3o;cpl)inc 3»an*ftcI6. 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 31 

Edward S. Stokes. Every one in New York is, of course, familiar with 
the suits and counter suits of the three principals — Fisk, Mansfield and 
Stokes — which have burdened the courts and the newspaper columns for 
a year past. Stokes has always asserted that Fisk has robbed him of a 
fortune of $200,000 accumulated in the oil refinery business, which was 
the joint property of Edward Stokes and his mother. Stokes has ex- 
pended in lawyers' fees during the last twelve months nearly thirty-eight 
thousand dollars, and this contest has beggared him and rendered him 
desperate. He has often said,, ft This is a fearful fight that I am carrying 
on, and I have no one to help me ; but I will never give up until I am 
righted. Fisk, through his lawyers, has endeavored to make me appear 
dishonest in the eyes of the people of New York, and I will not yield 
one inch of my rights, or one dollar of the moiwy which belongs to me." 
He also has frequently stated that he is afraid of being assassinated by 
some of Mr. Fisk's employe's, and has shown a pistol which he carried in 
his pocket to defend himself if attacked. In addition he has always 
night and day, had some friend in his company to prevent attack, as he said 
he did not wish to be taken by surprise, as Samuel Bowles was some time 
since. The quarrel between the two men has been very much embit- 
tered by the woman Mansfield, who has served to fan the embers of the 
feud whenever it was dying out. 

THE CORONER'S INQUEST. 

The jury, in the case of the late James Fisk, Jr., were called together 
by Coroner Young, on Monday morning, January 8th, and met at the 
Erie Railroad office, where they were sworn by him. The late residence 
of the deceased, No. 313 West Twenty -third street, was next visited, 
where the body of the murdered man was viewed by the jury. The 
Coroner having made arrangements for the use of the Court of Special 
Sessions, the inquest began there at three P. M. As it was not generally 
known that the inquest would take place at the Tombs, the number of 
spectators was not very large. The only precautions that had been taken 
to prevent the carrying out of any of the rumored threats against the life 
of Stokes was the keeping of the off platoon at the Sixth Precinct Police 
in reserve at the Station-house near by in Franklin street. A few 
minutes before three o'clock, the jurors began dropping in, and punctual 
to the minute, Mr. John Graham, John McKeon, and William Bartlett, 
counsel for the prisoner, arrived. Ex-Judge Fullerton, Charles S. Spencer, 
and Mr. Beach appeared on the part of the friends of the victim. Assist- 
ant District- Attorney Sullivan was also present on behalf of the people. 
The jurors were adjacent to the* witness stand, and were as follows: M. 
B. Field, J. R. Edwards, W. H. Locke, J. J. Gorman, Lowell Lincoln, 
Alexander McKenzie, Jesse Hoyt, David Dows, George Opdyke, Henry 
Clews, William Bliss, and A. Y. Stout. 

As soon as the preliminaries were arranged, Coroner Young directed 



82 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

Captain Byrnes to bring in the prisoner. A few minutes of suspense 
elapsed ; the prison door opened, and Stokes appeared. 

A marked silence fell on all present, while the accused walked to the 
seat pointed out to him. He was fashionably dressed, as usual with him* 
He looked nervous and dejected, and sat a little to the rear and between 
Mr. Graham and McKeon, kept his body bent over, and listened to the 
examination of the witnesses with close attention. Occasionally, when 
some vital or curious point was given in the testimony, he would raise 
his head, make a movement as though he would like to interrupt the 
witness. He would then turn to his counsel with a painful smile upon 
his face, and again bow his head to listen to the evidence that tended to 
prove him a murderer. 

Coroner Young then addressed the jury : 

Gentlemen of the Jury : — You have already been charged by me, that 
you are to make a true inquest into the cause of the death of James Fisk, 
Jr. I do not propose to say anything to you in regard to the merits of 
this case, one way or the other, nor to reiterate what I have told you 
before. I will proceed directly to elicit evidence, and will only ask that 
you give that evidence the attention it demands. 

Mr. John Graham then said : — Before your Honor commences with the 
investigation I would like to make some remarks ; because when you 
have commenced, it will be deemed irregular for counsel to speak. There 
seems to be a determination in certain quarters to infect the atmosphere 
of this court-room with a murderous feeling in regard to this case. 

Coroner Young. — Does the gentleman propose to argue a point ? 

Mr. Graham. — I propose to submit two legal questions. 

The Coroner remarked that on the inquests after the July riots he had 
to refuse Mr. Meany the right to interfere in the proceedings, and must do 
the same now. 

Mr. Graham.--— I want to submit two legal points. As a citizen I have 
a right to come here and see that you conduct this investigation before a 
jury. It was easy for friends to come around and conceal any evidence 
of violence that might have been made by the unfortunate deceased at 
the time of the shooting. Mr. Graham then read the statute making it 
unlawful for any person except the Coroner to wilfully touch the body 
of any person found dead, about the cause of whose death there are any 
reasonable grounds for suspicion of murder. The penalty for an infrac- 
tion of this law was one year's imprisonment or a fine of $500, or both, 
at the discretion of the Court. 

Coroner Young said that the jury had been regularly sworn to hear 
the testimony, and would render a verdict according to the testimony 
given. He did not propose to inquire into the merits of the case. 

Mr. Graham. — I ask you to put before this jury evidence relating to 
the condition of Mr. Fisk's body from the very time that he sustained the 
injury down to the time of his death. 



ASSASSINATION OF JAMES FISK, JR. 8« 

A brief argument then ensued between Mr. Graham and the Coroner, 
and it was soon evident that Mr. Graham proposed to commence the de- 
fence of his client before the Coroner's jury. 

Then followed the witnesses, consisting of the boy porter, John T. Red- 
mond, at the Grand Central, Thomas Hart, employe* at the same, Patrick 
McGowan, engineer for the same, Laurence Cohen, hackman, with Ben- 
jamin C. Allen and John Chamberlain. 

The testimony presented in substance the same facts heretofore given, 
and need not be repeated. 

VERDICT 

The jury after a short deliberation returned the following verdict : 
" That James Fisk, Jr., came to his death by gunshot wounds from a pistol 
ia the hands of one E. S. Stokes, on Saturday, p. M., January 6th, 1872, 
at the Grand Central Hotel, New York city." 



« • > » » 



ANECDOTES AND LESSONS FROM FISK'S 
LIFE AND DEATH. 



' Tread lightly o'er the ashes ©f the dead." So says humanity, and bo 
says Christianity. But how lightly Christian ministers can tread over 
the grave of the unfortunate Fisk may be inferred from a batch of sermons 
preached about him in different churches throughout New York City 
and Brooklyn. Under various pretexts his name and his character were 
held up to the scorn and reprobation of the listening congregations, while 
all that was superficially vicious in the dead was detailed; but the virtue 
and the goodness which lay deep down in his nature and was not paraded 
before the world in the public prints were left unspoken and unsung. And 
yet multitudes of incidents have been published showing the innate 
goodness and kindness of heart of Mr. Fisk while he lived, and those 
ministers who felt specially inspired to talk about him might, had they 
read these things, have known that he was not the hideous monster they 
painted him. Mr. Willis, of the Hedding Methodist Episcopal church, 
in Seventeenth street, deemed it important in warning young men to 
avoid the way that Mr. Fisk travelled, to abuse the name and memory of 
the dead in such a manner as we are sure he would not have done had 
he known his subject better, or were that subject able to call him to ac- 
count for his unchristian utterances. "His life was a vanity fair; his 
character an unhealthy plethora, a dropsical ambition, a fungus and a 
stench," cried this teacher of a Gospel supposed to breathe only charity 



U THE PISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

*nd love and good will. If this reverend divine had talked as eloquently 
io Mr. Fisk as he did of him he might have converted him from the 
error of his ways and saved his soul from death as well as hid his 
multitude of sins. But how much easier it is to preach about a dead 
man than it is to preach to a living man I How delighted and instructed 
this Methodist audience must have been to hear Fisk compared to " a 
mere pantomimic showman, who, with the melodramatic buffoonery of 
Falstaflj combined the sinister intrigues of Dunstan, yet without the redeem- 
ing virtues or genius of either. A bully without prowess, a champion 
without a belt and without battle." There is very much more of this 
sort of sensationalism in Mr. Wills's discourse, and for loose, disreputable 
and unchristian clerical bitterness and- animosity we can commend it. 
But for anything of the spirit of Him who ate and drank with publicans 
and sinners, and who had only words of sympathy and tender reproof 
and warning for the erring, but many rebukes for self-righteous Pharisees, 
the reader will probably look in vain. Yet we have no doubt the ser- 
mon, because of its subject, will be read through and through, and will 
probably be remembered longer than many of the grander and sweeter 
utterances of the Saviour, who spake as never man spake. But if Fisk's 
brilliant life and sudden death can teach young and ambitious men to 
be ready for death at any time, this remarkable sermon of Mr. Wills 
should as strongly teach the beautiful lesson of charity for the dead and 
-solicitude for the living, which it lacks in spirit if not in word. 

Yery differently did the Rev. Mr. Partidge, of Brooklyn, allude to the 
death of James Fisk, while he too sought to impress his hearers with the 
importance of attending to the business of the soul first. After the 
bloody deed was done, what time had Fisk for repentance and tears ? the 
preacher asked. And when his temporal affairs were settled, where were 
liis spiritual advisers? And we might pertinently ask, Where were they 
before the fatal bullet was fired ? How many Christian ministers in New 
York to-day who inwardly rejoice at the assassination of James Fisk, 
have ever spoken or written to him upon the subject of religion ? We 
may be morally certain that there are few if any who thought as much 
about the living as they do of the dead. And we dare say that many of 
them have applied to him personally and by letter for railroad passes from 
one point to another. And, doubtless, to some of them God is saying at 
this hour, " his blood will I require at thy hand." The death hour is 
hardly the best for Christian ministers to do what they might have done 
during any one of many years before. It may have been, however, that some 
one or more of those servants of Christ have tried to admonish and warn 
Mr. Fisk, and in the effort have, perhaps, done more harm than good. 
To such we commend the suggestions of Rev. Mr. Brackett, of the First 
Baptist Church, Brooklyn, E. D., on this point, though in his portrayal . 
•of Mr. Fisk, and the reference to the latter's generosity, he has hardly 
done justice to himself or to the dead. Without mentioning names, Dr. 



ANECDOTES FKOM FISK'S LIFE. $*> 

Richardson made the assassination of Mr. Fisk the basis for an eloquent 
discourse on the power of public sentiment to restrain crime, in which he> 
uttered many salutary truths, which society would do well to remember. 
The punishment of the assassin was very lightly touched upon by any 
of the preachers, who seemed to be more intent on preaching Fisk than 
Jesus Christ. But sensationalism is the life of a good many pulpits m 
New York, and the life and death of James Fisk gave them a good 
subject to dissect. 

THE FUNNY SIDE OF FISK. 

At the Erie office, Colonel Fisk's old chair was vacant, and his desk 
was draped in mourning. His old associates were silent, or gathered in 
groups to tell over reminiscences of the dead Colonel, whose memory is 
beloved and revered. Mr. Gould never tires telling about Fisk's good; 
qualities. 

fisk's first mistake. 

Fisk used to often tell about his first mistake in life. 

Said the Colonel, " When I was a little boy on the Vermont farm, my 
father took me up to the stable one day, where a row of cows stood in> 
the stable. 

" Said he, ' James, the stable window is pretty high for a boy, but do 
you think you could take this shovel and clean out the stable ? ' 

" * I don't know, Pop,' said James, ' I never have done it. 1 

" 'Well, my boy, if you will do it this morning, I'll give you this bright 
silver dollar,' said his father, patting him on his head, while he held the: 
silver dollar before his eyes. 

" ' Good,' says James, ' I'll try ' — and away he went to work. He 
tugged and pulled and lifted and puffed, and, finally, it was done, and his* 
father gave him the bright silver dollar, saying — 

" ' That's right, James ; you did it splendidly, and now I find you cas> 
do it so nicely, I shall have you do it every morning all Winter/" 1 

mistake number two. 

Fisk said his second mistake occurred in maturer years — when he first 
became associated with Gould in the Erie office. 

" How was it ? " asked Colonel Rucker. 

" Well," said Fisk, " Gould had some woman litigation on hand, and he 
came to me and said he wanted to use my name. 

"« What for?' said I. 

" ' Well, Fisk,' said Gould, ■ you know my wife is very sensitive, and 
you know this woman business is full of scandal. Now, you know yo» 
don't care, so just let me use your name for a week in this case. ,w 

1 What was the result, Colonel ? " asked Rucker. 
Result ? Why, by thunder, Gould used my name one week and there* 



$6 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY 

wasn't anything left of it. It was used up. He got it so mixed up and 
scandalized that I never could retain it, and I felt as if I didn't care a 
damn about it afterwards." 

LITTLE PETER. 

Fisk's little Peter was about ten years old, and small at that. Fre- 
quently large men would come into the Erie office and u bore " the Colo- 
nel. Then he would say : 

" Here, Peter ; take this man in custody, and hold him under arrest 
sintil we send for him ! " 

CHARITY. 

One day a poor, plain, blunt man stumbled into Fisk's room. Said he : 

" Colonel, I've heard you are a generous man, and I've come to ask a 
great favor." 

* Well, what is it, my good man ? " asked Fisk. 

" I want to go to Lowell, sir, to my wife, and I haven't a cent of money 
in the world," said the man, in a firm, manly voice. 

" Where have you been ? " asked the Colonel, dropping his pen. 

" I don't want to tell you," replied the man, dropping his head. 

" Out with it, my man, where have you been ? " said Fisk. 

" Well, sir, I've been to Sing Sing State Prison." 

"What for?" 

" Grand larceny, sir. I was put in for five years, but was pardoned 
out yesterday, after staying four years and one-half. I am here, hungry 
and without money." 

" All right, my man," said Fisk, kindly, " you shall have a pass, and 
here — here is $5. Go and get a meal of victuals, and then ride down to 
the boat in an Erie coach, like a gentleman. Commence life again, and 
if you are honest and want a lift, come to me." 

Perfectly bewildered, the poor convict took the money, and six months 
afterward Fisk got a letter from him. He was doing a thriving mercantile 
business, and said Fisk's kindness and cheering words gave him the first 
hope — his first strong resolve to become a man. 

BLACK AND WHITE. 

Ten minutes after the poor convict left, a poor young negro preacher 
called. 

" What do you want ? Are you from Sing Sing too ?" asked Fisk. 

" No, sir ; I'm a Baptist preacher, from Hoboken. I want to go to the 
Howard Seminary, in Washington," said the negro. 

"All right, brother Johnson," said Fisk. "Here, Comer" he said, 
addressing his Secretary, " give Brother Johnson $20, and charge it to 
charity," and the Colonel went on writing, without listening to the 
stream of thanks from the delighted negro. 





Lj 






ANECDOTES FROM FISK'S LIFE. 8* 



ANECDOTE OF THE COLONEL. 

One Saturday morning a gentleman of dejected appearance and wearing 
seedy garments called at the Erie offices and asked for Col. Fisk. He 
was shown up to the Colonel, when the visitor explained that he was a 
clergyman, having a daughter in St. Louis who was dying of consumption. 
He had no money, and wanted a pass to enable him to reach his daughter. 
Col. Fisk received him kindly, and after talking with him, appointed a 
clerk to look into the matter. The clerk came back and reported his belief 
that the man was not a clergyman. Fisk looked at the man again 
marked his woe- begone expression, and said to the clerk : 

" Maybe he says he's a clergyman, thinking that will help him get the 
pass. That may not be true ; but I think his story is. He looks needy 
and honest, and I am going to give him a pass ; " and the Colonel did. 

REPARTEE. 

One day Fisk was travelling to Niagara with his brother-in-law 
Hooker. The directors' ear passed a car full of calves. 

u There, Colonel — there are some of your relations," said Hooker, 
laughing. 

" Yes — relations by marriage" said Fisk. 

CHARITY AND FUN. 

One day the Colonel was walking up Twenty -third street to dine with 
one of the Erie directors, when a poor beggar came along. The beggar 
followed after them, saying, in a plaintive tone, "Please give me a dime,, 
gentlemen ? " 

The gentleman accompanying Fisk took out a roll of bills, and com- 
menced to unroll them, thinking to find a half or a quarter. 

11 Here, man," said Fisk, seizing the whole roll, and throwing it on the 
side-walk, " take the pile." 

Then looking into the blank face of his friend, he said, a Thunderation, 
Sam, you never count charity, do you ? " 

" But, great guns, Colonel, there was $20 in that roll." 

a Never mind," said Fisk, a then I'll stand the supper to-night." 

GRAVEYARD FENCE. 

Somebody in Brattleboro came down to New York to ask Fisk for a 
donation, to help them build a new fence around the graveyard where he 
is now buried. 

" What in thunder do you want a new fence for ? " exclaimed the 
ColoneL " Why, that old fence will keep the dead people in, and Uve 
people will keep out as long as they can, any way ! " 



90 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

fisk's last joke. 

The day before Fisk was shot, he came into the office, and after looking 
over some interest account, he shouted, " Gould I Gould ! " 

"Well, what?" says Gould, stroking his jetty whiskers. 

" I want to know how you go to work to figure this interest so that 
it amounts to more than the principal t " said the Colonel. 

COL. FISK AND ERIE. 

HIS TESTIMONY IN ERIE SUITS. — THE GUM SHOES. — GONE WHERE THE 

WOODBINE TWINETH. 

There was a vein of humor in Mr. Fisk, which enabled him to bear up 
under all reverses. After he had been ruined in his first Wall Street 
speculations, instead of sitting down in despondence and gloom, as most 
people would have done under the circumstances, he started off to Boston, 
and in the cars he mingled freely in conversation, and with funny stories 
and puns beguiled the tedium of the journey, This trait in his character 
appears very prominently in the report of Mr. Fisk's evidence in a suit 
commenced against Yanderbilt by Fisk and Gould, on behalf of the Erie 
Railway to recover money from Yanderbilt and make him take back 
50,000 shares of Erie stock on the ground that the transaction was illegal. 
Fisk testified as follows : — 

AN INTERVIEW WITH VANDERBILT. 

I remember an interview with Commodore Yanderbilt, in the summer 
of 1868 ; I don't remember just when the first interview was ; it was after 
I returned from Jersey ; I was absent in Jersey for a lapse of time — 
(laughter) — and on my return I made the Commodore a call — (laughter;) — 
he said several of the directors were trying to make a trade with him, 
and he would like to know who was the best man to trade with ; I told 
him if the trade was a good one he had better trade with me — (laughter ;) — 
he said old man Drew was no better than a batter pudding — (great laugh- 
ter;) — Eldridge was completely demoralized, and there was no head or 
tail to our concern — (laughter ;) — I said I thought so too — (great laugh- 
ter;) — he said he had got his bloodhounds on us, and would pursue us till 
we took the stock off his hands — he'd be d — d if he'd keep it. I said I'd 
be d — d if we'd take it back ; that we would sell him stock as long as 
he'd stand up and take it. (Great laughter.) Upon this he mellowed 
down — (laughter) — and said we must get together and arrange this mat- 
ter. He said when we were in Jersey, Drew used to slip over and see 
him whenever he could get out from under our eyes; that he had a good 
deal of talk with him, and wanted to know if a trade made with Drew and 
Eldridge could be slipped through our board, saying, if it could we should 
all be landed in the haven of peace and harmony ; I told him that I would 



ANECDOTES FROM FISK'S LIFE. 91 

not submit to a robbery of the road under any circumstances, and that I 
was dumb-founded that our directors, whom I had supposed respectable 
men — (great laughter) — would have anything to do with such proceeding. 
Q. Is that all that was said ? A. I presume not ; we had half an hour's 
conversation, and I think I could say more than that in half an hour. 
(Laughter.) 

THE COMMODORE'S BUCKLES. 

Q. Can you give me anything more that was said? A. I don't remem- 
ber what more was said; I remember the Commodore put on his shoes 
— (laughter;) — I remember that shoe on account of the buckle — (laugh- 
ter ;) — you see there were four buckles on that shoe ; I hadn't ever seen 
any of that kind before, and I remember it passed through my mind that 
if such men wore that kind of shoe, I must get me a pair — (great laugh- 
ter;) — this passed through my mind, but I didn't speak of it to the Com- 
modore; I was very civil to him. (Laughter.) 

Counsel — Where was Gould all this time? 

Mr. Fisk — He was in the front room, I suppose; I left him there, and 
found him there, but I don't know where he may have been in the mean- 
time — (laughter;) — the next interview was at the house of Mr. Pierre- 
point; Gould and I had an appointment with Eldridge, at the Fifth 
Avenue Hotel, and as we did not find him there, we went out to see if we 
could find him. 

Counsel — Can you give the date of that meeting? A. No, sir. 

Q. Can you give the week ? A. No, sir. 

Q. Can you give the month ? A. No, sir. 

Q. Can you give the year ? A. No, sir ! not without reference. 

SECRET HISTORY OF ERIE. 

Q. What reference do you want ? A. Well, I shall have to refer back 
to the various events of my life to see just where that comes in, and the 
almighty robbery committed by this man Yanderbilt against the Erie 
Railway was the most impressive event in my life — (laughter;) — the 
meeting at Pierrepoint's was a week or ten days after the first interview 
with Yanderbilt; Gould and I went there about nine o'clock; we stepped 
into the hall together ; we asked if Mr. Pierrepoint was in ; the servant 
said he would see; when the servant went into the drawing room, I was 
very careful to keep on a line with the door so I could see in — (laughter ;) — 
I asked him if our president was there ; after some thoughtfulness on his 
part, he said he thought he was — (laughter;) — during this time I had moved 
along towards the drawing-room door, Mr. Pierrepoint having neglected 
to invite us in. 

Q. Where was Gould? A. 0, he was just behind me; he's always 
right behind at such times — (laughter ;) — and while he entertained Pierre- 
point, I opened the door and stepped in — (laughter ;) — and found most of 



«2 THE FISK-STOKBS TRAGEDY 






our directors there ; I stepped up to Mr. Eldridge, and told him we had 
been to the Fifth Avenue Hotel and did not find him ; he said he knew 
he was not there — (laughter ;) — I asked what was going on, and every 
one seemed to wait for some one else to answer — (laughter ;) — being better 
acquainted with Drew than any of the rest of them, though perhaps hav- 
ing less confidence in him — (laughter ;) — I asked him what under heavens 
was up ; he said they were arranging the suits ; I told him they ought to 
adopt a very different manner of doing it than being there in the night, 
that no settlement could be made without requiring the money of the 
corporation. 

drew's miseries. 
He begun to picture his miseries to me ; told me how he had suffered 
during his pilgrimage, saying, he was worn and thrown away from his 
family, and wanted to settle matters up ; that he had done everything 
he could, and saw no way out for either himself or the company ; I told 
him I guessed he was more particular about himself than the company, 
and he said, well, he was — (laughter;) — that he was an old man, and 
wanted to get out of the fight and his troubles ; that they were much 
older in such affairs than we were — I was very glad to hear him say that 
— (laughter ;) — and that it was no uncommon thing for great corporations 
to make arrangements of this sort; I told him if that was the case I 
thought our State Prison ought to be enlarged — (laughter;) — then Mr. 
Pierrepoint argued with me ; he said he did not think there was any one 
present who was not going to derive some benefits from it ; Kapallo was 
writing at a table; Schell was buzzing around — (laughter,) — inter- 
ested in getting his share of the plunder ; Work was sitting on a sofa ; 
I had nothing to say to him — (laughter ;) — as we were not on very good 
terms ; Gould and I had a conversation together, and not till 12 o'clock 
at night did we give our consent ; I told him I did not believe the pro- 
ceedings were legal ; that we had no lawyers ; that the lawyers there were 
sold to Eldridge— ^hook, line and sinker — (laughter;) — Gould said Eldridge 
had paid Evarts $10,000 for an opinion,, that it was all right, and Eaton 
had been paid $15,000 for an opinion, and said it was legal ; I told him I 
thought it was a queer way of classifying opinions — (laughter;) — Gould 
consented first ; he said he had made up his mind to do so as the best way 
to get out of the matter ; I told him I would consent if he did ; Drew 
came to me with tears in his eyes and asked me to consent, and I con- 
sented. 



ERIE DEVILTRIES. 

Then there was some paper drawn up and passed around for us to sign; 
I don't know what it contained ; I didn't read it ; I don't think I noticed 
a word of it ; I don't know the contents, and I have always been glad I 
didn't — (laughter ;) — I have thought of it a thousand times ; I don't know 
what other documents I signed; signed everything that was put before 






ANECDOTES FROM PISK'S LIFE. 93 

me — (laughter ;) — after the devil once got hold of me I kept on signing 
— (laughter ;) — didn't read any of them, and have no idea what they were ; 
don't know how many I signed — kept no account after the first ; I went 
with the robbers and have been with them ever since — (laughter ;) — after 
signing all the papers I took my hat and left at once in disgust — (laugh- 
ter ;) — I don't know whether we sat down or not ; I know we didn't have 
anything to eat. — (Laughter.) 

Counsel. — Didn't you have a glass of wine or something of that sort ? 

Mr. Fisk. — I don't remember. 

Counsel. — Wouldn't that have made an impression upon you? 

Mr. Fisk. — No, sir ! I never drink. — (Laughter.) I think I left at once 
as soon as I had done signing. As we went out I said to Gould we had 
sold oar souls to the devil. — (Laughter.) I remember Mr. White, the 
cashier, coming in with the check-book under his arm, and as he came in 
I said to him that he was bearing in the balance of the remains of our 
corporation to put into Vanderbilt's tomb. — (Laughter.) 

I became director in the Erie Railway on the 13th of October, 1867. 

Counsel. — You remember that date ? 

Mr. Fisk. — I do, well. It forms an episode in my life. 

Counsel. — What fixes it in your mind so well? 

Mr. Fisk. — I had gray hairs then. 

Counsel. — You have gray hairs now ? 

Mr. Fisk. — Plenty of them. And I saw more robbery during the first 
year than I had ever dreamed as possible. 

Counsel. — You saw it, did you ? 

Mr. Fisk. — I didn't see it, but I knew it was going on. I am now a 
director of the Erie Railway and its comptroller. My duty as a comp- 
troller is to audit all the bills ; as director, to manage the affairs of the 
corporation honestly. — (Laughter.) 

I would like to make an apology to the court. This is the first time 
I've been on the stand, and I may overstep some of the rules. — (Laughter.) 
If I do, it is wholly in ignorance. It is new business to me, and if I don't 
keep within the rules I ask my counsel to guide me, for I don't know 
when I may be imposed on. — (Laughter.) 

Counsel. — Your lawyer will look out for you. 

Mr. Fisk. — Oh, I'll look out for myself. — (Laughter.) Don't give your- 
self any trouble about that. 

Counsel. — You seem to be a very frank and outspoken witness. — 
(Laughter.) A. Well, I'm not much accustomed to you fellows — (laugh- 
ter ;) — I was never on the stand but once before. 

Q. When was that? A. That was when I was a boy, tip in the 
country in a cow case. — (Great laughter.) 



THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY 



BLACK FRIDAY. 



Mr. Fisk's explanation of his connection with the famous Black Friday 
gold speculations is also characteristic of the man. He said : 

" When Gould found himself loaded down to the gunwales and likely 
to go under, the cussed fellow never said a word. He's too proud for 
that. But I saw him tearing up bits of paper, and when Gould snips off 
corners of newspapers and tears them up in bits, I knew there was trouble. 
Then I came in to help. He knows I'd go my bottom dollar on him, and 
I said to him : — Look here, old fellow ! When I was a boy on a farm in 
Vermont, I've seen the old man go out to yoke up Buck and Brindle * 
he'd lift the heavy yoke on to Brindle's neck, key the bow, and then, hold- 
ing up the other end, motion to old Buck to come under, and old Buck 
would back off and off, and sometimes before he could persuade him under, 
the yoke would get too heavy for dad. And Gould, old fellow, Wall street 
wont be persuaded, and the yoke is getting heavy, and here I am to give 
you a lift." And again in the same connection Fisk said to Corbin : — " Oh, 
Gould has sunk right down under it. You wont see anything left of him 
but a pair of eyes and a suit of clothes." 

And in the subsequent investigation which took place, his famous reply 
when asked where the money had gone — "Gone where the woodbine 
twineth:" and on counsel inquiring where the woodbine was supposed 
to twine ? his answer, so characteristic of the man, — " Well, when I was a 
pedler in Vermont, I used to notice that the woodbine was generally hang- 
ing on to a spout," will be remembered as long as the memorable panic 
itself will. 



These anecdotes will show that there was a rare spirit of fun in the 
man who has been thus suddenly cut off in the prime of life, and will 
serve to relieve the darker shades of his character that have been so 
prominently presented during his past career 




LADIES FROM FISK'S OPERA HOUSE VIEWING THE BODY. 
Xanun oon $(*!'* Opera £ouf< ben £ei<f>nam beficfctfgenb. 



POOR FISK!— NAUGHTY JOSIEI 

THE LONG-SOUGHT LOVE LETTERS AT LAST. 



PLAYFUL, PASSIONATE, POETICAL, PITILESS, AND PENITENT. — GUSHING, 
GLOWING, GLOATING, AND GRIEVING. 

Fisk and Stokes first met in the summer of 1869. Stokes was then 
comparatively poor, having only a small amount of money, which he had 
made from several speculative operations, including an illicit distillery. 

.Stokes' parents Were wealthy, and lived in good style on Forty-ninth 
street. A few years* ago he married a most charming wife, formerly a 
Miss Southick. # 

MANSFIELD. 

A year before, Fisk had made the -acquaintance of Helen Josephine 
Mansfield, who was then in poor circumstances. She was introduced to 
Fisk, at her own request, at the residence of Anna Wood, on West 
Thirty-fourth street. "Josie" had just been divorced from Frank Law- 
lor, through a mythical divorce lawyer, named " M. House." Miss Mans- 
field, at this time, was in poor circumstances. She told Miss Wood that 
she had not a decent change of clothing. Fisk immediately took a great 
fancy to her, established her in nice quarters, furnished her with plenty 
of money, and she became the mistress of the Prince of Erie, and the- 
power behind the throne, which Fisk admits in his letter .u her. Their 
intimacy now ripened into a strong affection, especially on the part cf 
Fisk. He consulted her on all matters, lavished money on her, and Fisk's 
best friends say he got to regard'her with a perfect worship of affection. 

At this juncture, September, 1869, Stokes became intimate with Fisk. 
He used to spend much time at the Erie office. He was a natty, hand- 
some, lively fellow, and Fisk liked him. On the loth of September, 
Stokes called at the Erie office and suggested to Fisk his mother's oil 
refinery, in Brooklyn. He said it might be put in working order, crude 
oil shipped over the Erie road, and a big scheme for making money was 
opened up to Fisk. Immediately a co-partnership was formed, and 
Stokes made treasurer. The oil refinery belonged to Stokes' mother. 
Stokes paid his mother $12,000 per annum for it, while Fisk, out of 
friendship and good feeling to Stokes, allowed him $27,000 for its rent to 
the company. In this oil transaction, Fisk furnished all the funds. 
Crude oil was transported over the Erie Railroad at a small tariff, puri- 
fied, and sold at a good profit. 

STOKES* PROFITS. 

As we said, Stokes was at first made treasurer of the company ; but, 
having drawn oufc over $32,000 in the course of four months, the com- 
pany was reorganized, and he was appointed secretary of the new corpo- 
ration. From the new company he drew out over $37,000 in the course 
of six months, aiad on January 6, 1871, he collected in ©ne day $27,000 



98 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY 

of the company's money, no part of which, Fisk claimed, was due to him, 
and put it in his pocket, telling some of his friends that he had got 
$27,000 of Fisk's money, and meant to keep it. For this he was arrested, 
in the manner hereafter stated ; but upon his discharge from arrest, a com- 
promise was entered into by which he was allowed to keep what money 
was in his possession, and was paid $15,000 more for himself, and $6000 
for his mother, in order to induce him to sell out his interest, and retire 
from the company. In one way with another, Stokes managed to leave 
the company with $130,000 more money than he had when he went into 
it, all of which he derived directly from his relations with Fisk. 

But Stokes was always generous, and even profligate in his financial 
expenditures. He spent all he could make, and then complained that he 
did not make enough ; so one day he drew out $27,000, seized the refinery 
and laid a secret pipe, connecting a $50,0.00 vat of oil in store, with a neigh- 
boring refinery, with the idea of running off the oil. This was discov- 
ered. Stokes was arrested for embezzlement, at the instance of Fisk, and 
confined in the Tombs over night. This embezzlement trial came on 
before Judge Dowling, who decided that there was no embezzlement, as 
it was a partnership affair, and each member could draw out what money 
he chose. It might be a moral crime, but it was not legal embezzlement. 

The oil refinery business was now wound up, Fisk paying, through Mr. 
Beach, $27,000 to Stokes for rent of the refinery, which cost him $12,000, 
and fifty per cent, profit on the money which Fisk had advanced to Stokes 
to carry on the business at the commencement. Everything was quiet. 

Soon Stokes began to . feel still more uneasy. His finances were run- 
ning low. He had already been introduced by Fisk to the house of his 
friend, Josephine Mansfield, and spent days and nights there, unknown 
to Fisk, and supplanting his affections, for Fisk loved this woman, as bad 
as she was. 

Fisk now became jealous of Stokes. He told Stokes that " Josie would 
not let his old gum shoes stand in the hall," and he told "Josie" that she 
could not love them both "any more than you could run two engines on 
the same track in opposite directions." Stokes swore to Fisk that he had 
no cause of jealousy ; but the latter was not satisfied, and sought to 
break his connection with *the woman, even though he did love her. 
He wrote farewell letters to " Josie," and then she would write a " sweet " 
reply, when Fisk would repent, and send her a present, and often money. 
While she was "thick" with Stokes, Fisk was all the time sending her 
money. Soon Fisk wrote a parting letter to " Josie," and told her that 
she must look to Stokes for her support. This made "Josie " mad. She 
showed all of Fisk's letters to Stokes. 

STOKES USES FISK'S LETTERS TO "JOSIE." 

Stokes saw at once that these letters were not the letters which a mar- 
ried man should write to a woman other than his wife. He saw that 
there were personal matters that a man would write only to the woman 
whom he loved. He saw in them a chance of merchandise — an oppor- 
tunity to hold Fisk in his power. 

THE LETTERS PRESENTED WITH A $200,000 CLAIM. 

Stokes now gathered together all the notes, telegrams, scraps on cards, 
and every word which Fisk had written to Josephine Mansfield. He 
even gathered scraps on cards, which Fisk had written to this woman, 



THE FISK-MANSFIELD LETTERS. M 

while sitting in the parlor, waiting for her to come down. Stokes then 
made out a claim for $200,000 against Fisk. With this claim he sent 
copies of Fisk's letters to Josie. He said, unless the claim was paid the 
letters would be published to the world. This demand for $200,000 was 
made through his attorney, Ira Shaffer, Mr. Beach declining to be con- 
nected with the matter. With these letters came a copy of a motion for 
the arrest of Fisk — not the arrest itself, but the arrest which would follow 
in case the $200,000 should not be paid. 

THE FISK-MANSFIELD LETTERS. 

These are the letters which Stokes sent to Fisk. These are the letters 
about which there has been so much talk, and so much money spent. 
These are the letters which caused Fisk to get out an injunction against 
Stokes, to prevent their publication. They are now presented as sent by 
Stokes to Fisk. They are extraordinary letters, but they are such letters 
as a man would write to a woman whom he loved, and whose infatuation 
he had resolved to cast off. The public will be the judge as to whether 
Mr. E. S. Stokes and Helen Josephine Mansfield were after honor, justice, 
or money, when they presented a $200,000 claim with these letters. Our 
promise is to give the facts. 

The letters commence by a note written by Fisk, when Josie lived in 
Lexington avenue, on his visiting card, as follows : 

Mrs. Josie Lawlor, 42 Lexington avenue: — Come. Will you come over with Fred 
end dine with me ? If your friends are there bring them along. 

Yours, truly, J. F., Jr. 

Have not heard from you as you promised. 

On the back of the card was the following : 

Come. Fred is at the door. My room, eight o'clock. After many good looks, I 
found Mr. Chamberlain. The understanding is now that yourself and Miss Land are 
to go with me, say at half-past nine o'clock, and the above gentleman is to come at 
eleven o'clock, as he has some matters to attend to which will take him until that 
time. Answer this if you will be ready by half-past nine o'clock. 

4JU Yours, truly, James Fisk, Jr. 

JOSIE SPREADS HERSELF 

After Fisk began to furnish Josie with money, away back in 1868, she 
began to ride out in great style. One day she came into the Opera House 
in magnificent apparel, to the astonishment of the employes. 

The next day Fisk wrote the following scolding note on his visiting 
card : 

Strange you should make my office or the vicinity the scene for a " personal." 1 on 
must be aware that harm came to me in such foolish vanity, and those that could do 
it care but little for the interest of the writer of this. Yours truly, 

James Fisk, Jr. 

In January, 1868, Fisk seemed to be in a Pickwickian mood, for he 
came the " chops and tomato sauce " in the following laconic : 

Fifth Avenue Hotel. 
Dolly .'—Enclosed find money. Bully morning for a funeral I J. F. Jr. 

Here comes a fishy dispatch, characteristic of the Colonel : 

Dear Josie ;— Get ready and come to the Twenty-third street entrance of the hotel 
and take me down town, and then you can come back and get the girls for the Fulton 
dinner to-day. Yours, truly, Sardines 



100 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

It seems Josie was going off on a journey, and Fisk provides for her 
like a devoted lover : 

f 

Dolly : — The baggage sleigh will call a*, one o'clock, and yon can leave in my charge 
what yon see fit. You nave no time to lose. J. F., Jr. 

Then comes a sober note from J. Fisk, through J. C. (John Corner), 
Fisk's private secretary : 

Mrs. Mansfield : — The sleigh will call here for yon at two r m. Yours, 

J. Fisk, per J. C. 

Here comes a quiet note, as if written by the head of a family ; but it 
is full of devotion. It is the first regularly dated note presented : 

My people are partaking of New York in the shape of " White Fawn " and two 
three other different matters. I may not be able to see you again to-night. If not 
will take breakfast with you — the best I could do. Yours, truly, 

February 5, 1868. James. 

So we see how Fisk kept his word, for he sent a boy off to " Josie 
with this note in the morning : 

Dear Dolly : — Get right up now, and I will be down to take breakfast with you ii 
about thirty minutes. We will take breakfast in the main dining-room down stairs, 

Yours, truly, James Fisk, Jr. 

Wednesday Morning, February 6. 

To-day Fisk sent " Dolly " some money, saying : 



Have the kindness to acknowledge. Yours, truly, 
February 22, 1868. J. F., Jb. 

To-night Fisk went to the opera with Josie. 

Dear Josie : — I have got some matters to arrange, and cannot call for you until it 
is about time to go. I will be there twenty minutes before eight. Be ready. 

Yours, truly, James. 

February 26, 1868. 

SLEEP, DOLLY, SLEEP ! 

What a sweet, pretty note is this ! Who wouldn't sleep well with a 
sweet note from the Prince of Erie and a present of $50 ? 

Dolly: — Enclosed find $50. Sleep Dolly, all the sleep you can to-day — every 
little bit ! Sleep, Dolly I I feel as if three cents' worth of clams would help me 
some. Yours, truly, J. F., Jr. 

What filial love is displayed in this note ! Oh, Josie ! Fisk loved his 
wife the best after all ! 

Monday Morning. 
I am going to the San Francisco Minstrels with my family. If Mr. L. was here I 
should ask him to take you. Shall see you to-morrow evening. 

Yours, truly, J. F., Jr. 

But what a nice compensation — to send money when he could not come 
himself 1 That ought to satisfy any one. 

Dolly: — Enclosed find . I am wrong, but I am bothered. It will come 

right. When I don't come don't wait. You shall not be placed as you was to-night 
again. Yours, truly, Jamks Fisk, Jr. 

Have the kindness to acknowledge. Yours, truly, 

Feb. 22, 1868. J. F., Jr. 



THE FISK-MANSFIELD LETTERS. 101 



TWEED AND SIR MORTON PETO. 

Now we come to affairs of State. It is to be hoped that Tweed and 
Sir Morton's partner had a good dinner, and that Dolly looked lovely : — 

187 West Street, Tuesday, Oct. 13, 1868. 
My Dear Josie: — James McHenry, the partner of Sir Morton Peto, the largest 
railway builder in the world, Mr. Tweed ana Mr. Lane will dine with us at half-past 
six o'clock. I want you to provide as nice a dinner as possible. Everything went off 
elegantly. We are all safe. Will see you at six o'clock. James Fisk, Jr. 

HONEYMOON PASSED. 

Josie and James now began to be so intimate that few letters were 
written, and these were of a solid and substantial kind, almost always 
containing money. As we give every letter mentioned in the affidavits, 
of course these slip in with the rest : 

Monday, Aug. 2, 1869. 
Dear Josie : — Send my valise, with two shirts, good collars, vest, handkerchiefs, 
black velvet coat, nice vest, patent leather shoes, light pants. I am going to Long 
Branch to see about the clerye. Enclosed find $25. Be back in the morning. 

J. F., Jr. 

What 'a generous man was Fisk ! To-day he sends more money : 

St. James' Hotel, Sunday, Oct. 18, 1869. 
Dear Josie : — Enclosed you will find $143. Yours, truly, James. 

A LITTLE TROUBLE. 

Fisk had been having a little scold with Josie about this time. Josie 
wanted Fisk to make a settlement on her, and Fisk wouldn't. But Fisk's 
forgiving disposition is here illustrated : 

February, 10, 1870. 
My Dear Dolly : — Will you see me this morning ? If so, what hour ? 

Yours, truly, ever, James. 

How like a good husband did Fisk notify Dolly of his comings and 
goings 1 If every married man in New York was as kind as Fisk was 
to his " Dolly," how happy the world would be ! Here comes a telegram 
from Worcester, Mass. : 

Western Union Telegraph Company, Worcester, Mass. 
[Received at Tlurtieth street, February 14, 1870.] 
To H. J. Mansfield, 359 West Twenty-third street : 
On the three o'clock train from Boston. Shall be in New York at twelve. 

(13 D. H.) J. F., Jr. 

What a nice apology for not coming to dinner is here sent I Generous 
Fisk! 

10th of March. 

Dear Dolly : — Enclosed find $75, which you need ; do not wait dinner for me to- 
night ; I cannot come. Yours, truly, ever, James. 

A LOVE QUARREL. — THE SORROWFUL SEPARATION. 

Josie seemed now enthroned in Fisk's affections. That he loved her 
was plain, to all. But this did not satisfy her. She saw her charms 
slowly fading, and, though she had a present competency, who was to 
take care of her in the far future ? What i£ by and by, Fisk should tire 



102 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

of her? These were the serious questions which filled her mind, and she 
was continually importuning Fisk to settle something on her to make her 
independent. This Fisk refused. He saw her giving away his money 
and taking the credit of generosity — to herself. He saw that money was 
the secret of her love for hirn, so he chose to hold the money in his own 
hands. Frequently Josie threatened to leave him. Several times she 
said she would go off with Stokes if Fisk didn T t endow her with a life 
competency. 

On the 28th of January, 1870, Josie made a big row. She declared 
she would leave Fisk if he didn't make over to her a competency for life. 
Fisk refused. The next day Josie wrote him a threatening letter, saying 
their relations were ended. Fisk received it with sorrow, and then re- 
plied: . 

, Sunday Evening, February 1, 1870. 

My Dear Josie : — I received your letter. The tenor does not surprise me much. 
You alone sought the issue, and J,he reward will belong to you. I cannot allow you 
to depart believing yourself what you write, and must say to you, which you know 
full well, that all the differences could have been settled by a kiss in the right spirits, 
And in after days I should feel very kindly toward you out of memory of the great 
love I have borne for you. I never was aware that you admitted a fault. I have 
many — God knows, too many — and that has brought me the trouble of the day. I 
will not speafc of the future, for full well I know the spirits you take it in. " You 
know me," and the instincts of your heart will weigh me out in the right scale. I 
will give you no parting advice. You have been well schooled in that, and can tell 
chaff from wheat, and probably are as strong to-night as the humble writer of this 
letter. The actions of the, past must be the right way to think of me ; and from them, 
day by day, I hope any comparison which you may make from writing in the future 
will be favorable for me. A longer letter from me might be much of an advertisement 
of my weakness, and the only great idea I would impress on your mind is how wrong 
you are when you say that I have "grown tired of you." Wrong, wrong! Never 
excuse yourself on that in after years. Don't try to teach your heart that, for it is a 
lie, and you are falsifying yourself to your own soul. 

No more. Like the Arabs, we will fold our tents and quietly steal away, and when 
we spread them next we hope it will be where the " woodbine twineth," over the river 
Jordan, on the bright and beautiful banks of heaven. From yours, ever, 

James. 
TOGETHER AGAIN. 

In a few days after Fisk wrote the last letter " Josie " sent for him ; then 
she went to see him, and soon the trouble was all made up again. Four 
months afterwards we find Fisk enclosing her money, and sending such 
letters as these : 

My Dear Josie : — Enclosed find your request. I will send to the Fifth avenue for 
the things. I cannot go to the house, as much as I would like to. 

May 6, 1870. Yours, Jamks. 

Comptroller's Office, Erie Railway Company, New York, May, 1870. 
Dolly : — What do you think of this man ? I told him you would talk to him, and 
then tell him to come back to me next Monday, and I will talk to you about it. 

Yours, ever, James. 

Who the above man was we do not know. 

Now comes in some seemingly irrelevant matter. Who John S. 
Williams is we do not know, and W. Wilkins is a mystery to us ; but, 
perhaps, Stokes knew what it meant when he put tne telegrams with the 
other letters : 

Erie Railroad Telegraph, New York, April 26, 1870. 
(From Chicago, 111.) 
To James Fisk. Jr. :— -John S. Williams, colored, is here without tickets or money. 
He has letters from our agent at San Francisco, Mr. A. J. Day; E. S. Spencer, at 
Omaha. Advise me wha to do. He wants to leave on (445) to-morrow. 

A. J. Day, per A. M'Gkddis, Ticket Agent, 
(Answered. Sheridan.) 



THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 



103 



Erie Railroad Telegraph, New York, April 26, 1870. 
To A. J. Day, Chicago:— Yes. Send John S. Williams through on my account 

(9 \ James Fisk. Jr. 

[Written in lead pencil by J. F., Jr.] 
W. Wilkins should be here in thirty hours from Chicago, when he will be directed 
to your house. Yours, truly. J. F., Jr. 

THE BIG DIAMOND PIN T . 

It seems that Fisk trusted his $18,000 pin with Josie, for he thus 
ffectionately sends for it : 

C. Office, May 31, 1870. 
Please send ine the diamond brooch and necklace, my dear. James. 

A COLDNESS. 

It seems that Fisk began to grow cold about this time. Montaland 
had arrived from Paris, and the Prince of Erie was paying court to her. 
It was all fair — Josie had Stokes and Fisk had Montaland. This letter is 

full of heartfelt regret : 

August 1, 1870. 

My Dear Josie : — I send you letter I found to my care on my desk. I cannot 
eome to you to-night. I shall stay in town to-night, and probably to-morrow night, 
and after that 1 must go East. On my return I shall come to see you. I am sure 
you will say, " What a fool !" But you must rest, and so must I. The thread is so 
slender I dare not strain it more. I am sore, but God made me so, and I have not 
the power to change it. 

Loving you, as none but you, I am yours ever, James. 

STOKES AND A PLOTTING HOUSE. 

In the quarrel between Josie and Fisk, Miss Nully Pieris, Mr. Rane, 
and Stokes seem to have been suspected by Fisk of plotting against him. 
He thus complains of a despatch which "Rane" sent to Stokes, who was 
at Saratoga or Buffalo, to come to New York: 

f August A, 1870. 

Dear Josie: — I found on my arrival at my office that the following despatch had 
passed West last night : — 

E. S. Stokes, Buffalo and Saratoga Springs:— 

Fay no attention to former despatch. Come ou first train. Rank. 

Of course it means nothing that you are aware of. But let mc give you the author 
of it and my authority, and you will see how faithfully they have worked the case out 
after my departure last evening. Miss Pieris drove directly to Rane's office ; from there 
to the corner of Twenty-second street and Broadway, where the above despatch was 
sent, and from there to Rulley's. A third party was with them, but who left them 
there. Rane and Pieris, why should they need Stokes ? "Comment is unnecessary " 
— a plotting house, and against me. What have " I done " that Nully Pieris should 
work against ray peace of mind. Yours, truly, ever, Jamks. 

P. 8. — Since writing the within I understand a despatch has reached New York 
that he is on his way. James. 

JOSIE DESERTS FISK 

Josie now deserted Fisk because he would not give her a life compe- 
tency and linked her destinies with Stokes. Notwithstanding Fisk pays 
bills and generously furnishes Josie with money. 

August 14, 1870. 

Enclosed you will find $400 for your little matters. You told me when 1 saw you 
last you would send me your bills, which I would be pleased to receive and they shall 
have my attention at once. Your letter would require a little time to prepare a ri^jt 
answer to, so I will answer it more fully by to-morrow, when I can look it more care- 
fully over. I am very happy to know that you have acted from no impulse in leaving 
me, but that it was a long matured plan. I hope you have made no mistake. 

Yours, truly, ever, Jamks Fisk. Jr. 




COL. FISK, JR., IN IIIS LAST MOMENTS, SURROUNDED BY HIS FRIENDS AND 

RELATIVES. 
t ? ol. ividE jr. in fcincn Ictjtcti Sluflcublicfcii, umgcbcn ©on fcincn ftrcusifrcn nnfc ©crroanbtcn. 



THE FISK-MANSFIELD LETTERS. 106 



JOSIE WRITES TO FISK. 

This is the letter which Josie wrote to Fisk, and which he desired to 
take time to reply to. In this letter Josie says she has never received a 
dollar from any one but Fisk. It is Josie's last letter : 

September, 1870. 

James Fisk, Jr. : — That your letter had the desired effect you can well imagine. 
I am honest enough to admit it cut me to the quick. In all the annals of letter 
writing I may say it eclipsed them all. Your secretary made a slight error, however, 
m supposing that Mile. Montaland was mentioned. The only prima donna 1 had 
referred to was "Miss Pieris." As you say, Mile, has nothing whatever to do with 
my affairs. I have always respected her, and only thought of her as one of the 
noblest works of God — beautiful and talented and your choice — never referring to her 
in my letter in thought or word. I freely admit I never expected so severe a letter 
from you. I, of course, feel that it was unmerited, but, as it is your opinion of me, 
I accept it with all the sting. You have struck home, and, 1 may say, turned the 
knife around. I will send you the picture you speak of at once. The one in the 
parlor I will also dispose of. I know of nothing elsewhere that you would wish. I am 
anxious to adjust our affairs. I certainly do not wish to annoy you, and that I may 
be able to do so I write you this last letter. You have told me very often that you 
held some twenty or twenty-five thousand dollars of mine in your keeping. I do not 
know if it is bo, but that I may be able to shape my affairs permanently for the future 
that a part of the amount would place me in a position where I never would have to 
appeal to you for aught. I have never had one dollar from any one else, and arriving 
here from the Branch, expecting my affairs with you to continue, 1 contracted bills 
that I would not otherwise have done. I do not ask for anything I have not been led 
to suppose was mine, and do not ask 5^11 to settle what is not entirely convenient for 
you. After a time I shall sell my house, but for the present think it best to remain 
in it. The money I speak of would place me where 1 should need the assistance of 
no one. 

The ring I take back as fairly as I gave it you; the mate to it I shall keep for com- 
pany. Why you should say I obtained this house by robbery I cannot imagine; 
however, you know best. I am sorry that your associations with me was detrimental 
to you, and I would gladly, with you (were it possible), obliterate the last three years 
of my life's history ; but it is not possible, and we must struggle to outlive our past. 
I trust you will take the sense of this letter as it is meant, and that there can be no 
aiistake I send this by Ella, and what you do not understand she will explain. 

FISK TO JOSIE. 

To thiis and other letters of Josie, Fisk made the following reply : 

New Fork, Oct. 1, 1870. 
Mrs. Mansfield: — There can be no question as to the authority of the letter which 
was handed to ine yesterday by your servant, in this respect differing from the epistle 
which you say you received from Miss Pieris, and which, in your opinion, required 
the united efforts of herself, Mile. Montaland and myself. Certainly the composition 
should be good if these parties had combined to produce it. But the slight mistake 
you make is evident from the fact that the letter referred to was never seen by me, 
and I presume Mile. Montaland is equally ignorant of its existence, as it is not likely 
she troubles herself about your affairs. I can scarcely believe that she assisted 
Miss Pieris in composing the letter, and the credit is therefore due to Miss Pieris for 
superior talent in correspondence. As far as the great exposure you speak of is 
concerned that is a dark entry upon which I have no light, and as I fail to see it I can- 
not, of course, understand it. I have endeavored to put your jumbled letter together 
in order to arrive at your meaning, and I presume I have some idea of what you wish 
to convey; but as your statements lack the important element of truth they Cannot, 
of course, have any weight with me. You may not be to blame for entertaining the 
idea that you have shown great kindness to Miss Pieris and others, and that they are 
under great obligations to you for favors conferred. The habit of constantly imagin- 
ing that you were the real author of all the benefits bestowed upon others would 
naturally affect a much better balanced brain than yours, and in time you would 
come to believe that you alone had the power to distribute the good things to those 
around you, utterly forgetful of him who was behind the scenes entirely unnoticed. 
Can you blame, then, those from whose eyes the veil has fallen, and who see you in 
your true light as the giver of others' charities ? I would not trouble myself to 



106 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

answer your letters, and I do not consider it a duty I owe you to give you a final 
expression of my opinion. In venting your spite on Miss Pieris (with whose affairs, 
by the way, I have nothing whatever to do) you have written a letter, in answering 
which you afford me an opportunity of conveying to you my ideas respecting the 
theories which you have taken every opportunity to express to those around you, and 
which many people have considered merely the emanations of a crazy brain. I 
could not coincide with this view, for crazy people are not inclined to da precisely as 
they please, either right or wrong, and so long as they are loose I consider them sane, 
and therefore I could not put that construction on your conversation. As for Miss 
Pieris being " a snake in the grass," I care but little about that. She can do me 
neither harm nor good. I have done all that has been done for her during the past 
year. She comes to me and says : — "Sir, you have been my friend ; you have assisted 
me in my troubles, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart." That is a full and 
sufficient recompense for me for any good I may have done her, and she can return. 
If she be a snake in the grass I know full well her sting is gone and she is harmless. 
But what think you of a woman who would veil her eyes, first by a gentle kiss, and 
afterward, night and day, for weeks, months and years, by deceit and fraud, to lead 
me through the dark valley of trouble, when she could have made my pathway one 
of roses, committing crimes which a devil incarnate would shrink from, while all 
this time I showed to her, as to you, nothing but kindness, both in words and actions, 
laying at your feet a soul, a heart, a fortune and a reputation which had cost by night 
and day twenty-five years of perpetual struggle, and which, but for the black blot 
of having in an evi\ hour linked itself with you, would stand out to-day brighter than 
any ever seen upon earth ? But the mist has fallen, and you appear in your true 
light. I borrow your own words to describe you, " a snake in the grass," and, verily, 
I have found thee out; and you have the audacity to call your sainted mother to 
witness your advice to me. " A dog that bites," etc., etc. 

You accuse her of leading you «n and of ever standing ready to make appoint- 
ments for you. The tone of your letter is such that you seem willing to shoulder 
the load of guilt under which an ordinary criminal would stagger. I believe you 
have arrived at that state when no amount of guilt will disturb your serenity or 
prevent your having sweet dreams, and we still shall see you crawl " a snake in the 
grass." 

How I worship the night I said, " Get thee behind me, Satan ! " The few weeks 
that have elapsed since that blessed hour, how I bless them for the peace of mind 
they have brought me! Again the world looks bright and 1 have a being. You 
imagined I would pursue you again, and you thought I would endeavor to tear down 
the castle you had obtained by robbery. God knows that if I am an element so lost 
to every feeling of decency as to be willing to link itself with you I will assist and 
foster it, so that it will keep you from crawling towards me, and prevent me from 
looking on you as a snake, as you are, and from raising a hand in pity to assist you 
should trouble again cross your path. So I have no fears that I will agaiifcome near 
you. 1 send you baek a ring ; and. were I to write anything about it, the words would be 
only too decent for the same, were they couched in the worst of language. So I say, 
take it back. Its memory is indecent, and it is the last souvenir I have that reminds 
me of you. 1 had a few pictures of you, but they have found a place among the 
nothings which fill the waste basket under my table. I am aware that in your back 
parlor hangs the picture of the man who gave you the wall to hang it on ; and rumor 
says you have another in your chamber. The picture up stairs send back to me. 
Take the other down, for he whom it represents has no respect for you. After you 
read this letter you should be ashamed to look at the picture, for you would say, 
" With all thy faults I love thee still," and that would be merely the same oft-repeated 
lie. So take it down, Do not keep anything in that house that looks like me. 

If there are any unsettled business matters that it is proper for me to arrange send 
them to me, and make the explanation as brief as possible. 

I fain would reach the point where not even the slightest necessity will exist for 
any intercovtrse between us. I am in hopes this will end it. 



James Fwk, Jr. 



FISK TO JOSIE AGAIN. 



On the 4th of October Fisk wrote to Josie again, relative to the 
$25,000 which she wanted from him. He also mentions Stokes as the 
weak element, &c. "Etta" is Mrs. Williams: — 

New York, Oct 4 1870. 

After the departure of Etta to day I wasted time enough to read over once more the 
letter of which she was the bearer from you to me, and I determined to reply to it, 



THE FISK-MANSFIELD LETTERS lOt 

for the reason that if it remainedMinanswered you might possibly think I did not really 
mean what I said when I wrote ; and, besides, I was apprehensive that the friendly 
talk carried on through Etta, at second hand, between you and me. might lead you 
to suppose I had somewhat repented of the course I had taken, or of the words 1 had 
penned. It is to remove any such impression that I again write to you, as I would 
have the language of ray former letter and the sentiments therein expressed stamped 
upon your heart as my deep-seated opinion of your character. No other construction 
must be put upon my words. I turn over the first page of your letter ; I pass over 
the kind words you have written ; have I not furnished a satisfactory mansion for 
others' usej Have I not fulfilled every promise I have made ? Is there not a stability 
about your finances to-day (if not disturbed by vultures) sufficient to afford you a 
comfortable income for the remainder of your natural life ? You sa^ you have never 
received a dollar from any one but me, and you will never have another from me, 
until want and misery bring you to my door, except of course, in fulfilment of my 
sacred promise, and the settlement of your bills up to three weeks ago, at five min- 
utes to eleven o'clock. 

You need have no fear as to my sensitiveness regarding your calling on any one 
else for assistance, as I find the word " assistance " underlined in your letter to make 
it more impressive on my mind. That of all others is the point I would have you reach ; 
for in that you would say, " Why, man, how beautiful you are to look at, but nothing 
to lean on!" And you may well imagine my surprise at your selection of the ele- 
ment you have chosen to fill my place (Stokes). I was shown to-day his diamonds, 
which had been sacrificed to our people at one-half their value, and undoubtedly if 
this were not so the money would have been turned over to you, that you might feel 
contented as to the permanency of your affairs. You will therefore excuse me if I 
decline your modest request for a still further disbursement of $25,000. I very nat- 
urally feel that some part of this amount might be used to release from the pound the 
property of others in whose welfare the writer of this does not feel unbounded interest. 

You say that you hope I will take the sense of your letter. There is but one sense 
to be taken out of it, and that is an " epitaph," to be cut on the stone at the head of 
the grave in which Miss Helen Josephine Mansfield has buried her pride. Had she 
been the same proud-spirited girl that she was when she stood side by side with me — 
the power behind the throne — she would not have humbled herself to ask a perma- 
nency of one whom she had so deeply wronged, nor would she stoop to be indebted 
to h»m for a home which would have furnished a haven of rest, pleasure and debauchery 
without cost to those who had crossed his path and robbed him of the friendship he 
once felt. The length of time since I had seen her, and the kind words she spoke left 
my mind ill prepared for the perusal of your letter at that time, and it was not until 
after her departure, when I was seated quietly alone, that I took in the full intent 
and meaning of your letter, and felt that it was " robbery," and nothing else. Now, 
pin this letter with the other. The front of this is the back of that, and you will have 
a telescopic view of yourself and your character as you appear to me to-day ; and 
then I ask you to turn back from pages of your life's history, counting each page one 
week of your life, and see how I looked to thee then, and ask your own guilty heart if 
you had not better let me alone ; and instead of trying to answer this letter from your 
disorganized brain, or writing from the dictation of those around you to-day, simply 
take a piece of paper and write on it the same as I do now, so far as we are now, or 
ever may be, " Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. Amen." J. F., Jr. 

A little difference of opinion arose as to bills. Fisk maintained that 
after Josie left him and went with Stokes, that Stokes ought to pay the 
bills, and Fisk t'hus writes to Josie : — 

(J F. y Jr.) [Monogram.] 

Oct. 19. 1870 
Madame. — Enclosed I send you bill of Harris receipted, and I also beg to hand you 
$126.29, being the honest proportion of the Bassford bill which belong* to me to pay. 
I should have made the word "honest" more definite, for had not Mr. Bassford to 
put the dates to the bill, as he had received instructions from Miss Mansfield to have 
the bill all under the date of June 8, 1870, although ($146.26) the amount of the 
goods, as bought by you or your agent, was spent at a much later date? I should 
not suppose you would care to place yourself in the light that this bill puts you, 
knowing as I do the instructions that you gave Mr. Bassford. I had supposed you 
* honest," but I find that a trace of that virtue does not even cling to you. 

I am, yours, J. P., Jr. 



108 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

fisk's love for josib. 
Fisk's love for Josie at one time amounted to worship. It was hard 
for him to kill it, and day after day he used to spend writing to her. 
Here is another letter similar to the last : 

Department of Finance, New York, Oct. 20, 1870. 

Madam : — You know I would hot wrong you, and I woulu* take back all my acts 
when there could be a shadow of doubt that you was right and I was wrong ; and let 
me speak of the other harsh letters I have written. I wrote them because you had 
wronged me positively, because you had placed between me and my life, my hope and 
my happiness an eternal gulf, and I felt sore and revengeful, and on those letters I 
am now the same*. It would be idle for me to write aught about them or about us, 
when I could talk to you there. You did not listen. I presume it to be the same 
now. The entire connection is like a dream to me, a fearful dreamj from which I have 
awoke, and, while dreaming, supposed my soul had gone out ; and the awakening 
tells me I am saved, and, from the embers of the late fire, there smoulders no spirit of 
revenge towards you, for you acted right, and the wrong only came to me from you 
because you did not act sooner, and I would not believe that any power on earth would 
make any question of money influence me, or come between me and the holy feeling I 
once had for you. I sent John to Bassford's, and they told him what I said, or he told 
me so, that you left word that the dates of the bill should not be changed. But what 
does it matter whether it is so or not ? I cannot feel that you would do it, and some- 
thing says to me, this was one of the things she was not like. So I pass it by, and if 
the letters of last night or to-day are not like me, you can wash the bad act out from 
memory, and leave but the one idea that I want to do my duty and fulfil every unset- 
tled relic. At least in my heart rests no remorse, for the the memory is too deeply 
seated, and I would cherish all that is good about you, and forget forever the bad. 
Of late you have thought different from me (this may be imaginary on my part), for 
which I think you give me all the credit you can. We have parted forever. Now, 
let us make the memory of the past as bright and beautiful as we can ; for on my side 
there is so little to cherish that I cling to it with great tenacity, and hope from time 
to time to wear it off. You know full well how I have suffered. Once you knew me 
better than any one on earth % To-day you know me less. It is the proper light for 
you to stand in. It is all you desire on your side. It is all you deserve on mine. 

This letter should remain and be read only by you. Should you see fit to answer it, the 
answer will be the same way kept by me. There has been a storm. The ship, a noble 
steamer, has gone down. The storm is over, and the sea is smooth again. 

Little ships should keep near the shore; 
Greater ships can venture more. 

My ship is small and poorly officered. 

I am yours, ever, <fec, &c, J. F., Jr. 

p. s. — I would have liked to have answered your letter in full, but as you say I 
have not a well-balanced brain, and I know I could not do justice to a letter of that 
kind, so refrain, and content to let the sentiments of it " know and fret me." 

Josie used to call on Fisk frequently during the month of October. 
She frequently importuned him for money. Sometimes Fisk would see 
her, and this would unnerve him. As much as he had resolved on sep- 
aration her presence always melted his heart. This letter explains itself: 

October 25, 1870. 
Why should I write you again ? Shall I ever reach the end ? There comes another 
and another chapter, until 1 get weary with the entire affair. I would forget it, and 
no doubt you would the same. The mistake yesterday was almost the mistake of a 
lifetime for me. Who supposed for an instant that you would ever cross my path 
again in a spirit of submission and with a contrite spirit? You have done that you 
should be sorry for, and I the same in permitting it. This cannot be, and I shall 
write you the final letter, and I shall see you no more. I told you that much yester- 
day evening, and still I write it to you again. Yes, for the reason I treated you 
falsely last night, and I left you with a different impression, and I would put that 
right. You have acted so differently from your nature that I forgive you, and even 
went so far as to bring my mind to bear how I could take you back again. First, the 
devil stood behind, and my better reason gave way for the moment, and 1 came away, 
telling you I would see you no more. When your better character comes in contact 
with mine, we are so much alike that much of what is said, like that last night, had 
better been unsaid. All now looks bright and beautiful, and my better nature trembles 



THE FISK-MANSFIELD LETTERS. 109 

at ideas that were expressed last night. But that I should have left on your mind an 
idea that you eould control me, is erroneous. There are truths in this affair, and they 
must be spoken. You have gone out from one element and have taken another 
(Stokes), and for you to turn back, either when you are situated that way, or when 
even you could say that element had gone, should make no difference to me. It was 
you that took the step, and you should and shall suffer the consequences. Supposing 

the part you took last night and yesterday afternoon was one of truth, if not, and I 

Again, if you was not dealing from your heart in what took place, and I hope it was 
not true, then there are no consequences ana no suffering for you to endure. Why, 
it has been many a long year since I could say to myself that I had committed such 
a folly. To find another like yesterday would bring me back almost to childhood. To 
imagine that I should have again crossed your threshold, and crossed it, too, deliber- 
ately, knowing that the same facts existed that had given me all my trouble and 
made me this sorrow — why, it is devilish. I told you that I had passed the realm 
where I had forgiven you all the sorrow you had made me, and that I would not 
murmur; I would not find fault with all that I saw. I would fain tear your image 
from my mind, and I will. Why, I thought all night last night and all day to-day of 
your saying, " I would rather be a toad," etc, etc. Was that written to apply to me ? 
I should say so. Yes. Who knows what you would not conceive ? No one but 
yourself. And I must weigh you carefully, for I have nothing but a great character 
to deal with, and I must meet things carefully. You might suppose you could love 
two and, perhaps, more elements, and make them hover near you. Certainly you 
did last night, and for shame, I was one of them. But it will never occur again. For 
once let us be honest. You went that road because it looks smooth, and pleasant, 
and mine looked ragged and worn. Now, a mistake cannot be found out too soon. 
Travel further along, and don't try to turn so soon. I can see you now, as you were 
last night, when you talked of this man (Stokes) ; and do not deceive yourself— you 
love him. Yesterday there was nothing but the breaking up of strong pride and the 
giving way of wilfulness. Cling to that one. Leave me alone ; for in me you have 
nothing left. Why ask me to weaken yourself with him ? All this you must study ; 
but I pledge you to-night that I will not countenance even your impression on my 
mind until the door is closed behind him forever. For what you can gain from me 
you probably cannot afford to do that; so let me advise you — nourish him and be 
careful. Nothing is so bad for you as changes. He loves you ; you love him. You 
have caused me air the misery you could. Cling to him. Be careful what you do, 
for he will be watchful. How well he knows you cheated me. He will look for the 
same. And now, as I know precisely how you stand from your own lips, I will treat 
him differently. Although you would not protect him I will. While he is there, 
and until his memory is buried forever, never approach me, for I shall send you away 
unseen. Ever be careful that you do not have the feeling that you can come back 
to me, for there is a wide gulf between you and me. I would not hold a false hope 
out to you. I shall not trouble you more in this letter. You have the only idea I 
can express to you. You know when you can see me again, if ever. The risk for 
you is too great. Loving, and suited as you are, cling to him for the present, and 
when your nature grows tired of that throw him off. And so along until it is time 
for you to be weary and for you to be " put in your little bed " forever, you must rest 
contented. Don't begin plotting to-morrow. Take to-morrow for thought, and be 
governed by this letter, for the writer has much of your destiny in his hands. 

JOSIK STILL CLINGS TO FISK. 

Notwithstanding their last farewell letter Josie still clung to Fisk. She 
asked* him for favors, asked him for money, which Fisk, in his good 
nature, almost always gave, as we see by the letter following : 

November 1, 1870. 
Miss Mansfield : — I have taken the steps for the corn doctress' removal to a south- 
ern clime, where her business should be better, as vegetables of that class thrive more 
rapidly there than on our bleak shores. I presume it will take from two, or say four 
days, before I get the passes, when they will be sent to you. Should she call on you 
say to her to come back in four days and you will have them for her. I sent you a 
package by Maggie for what you desired on Saturday evening, with a little surplus 
over for trimmings, which I hope you received. I am of your opinion regarding not 
only Doctor Pape but all of the doctors. You are well ; let nature take its course. 
You are in too good health to tamper with a constitution as good as yours. This is 
important for your consideration. Yours, truly, Jambs. 



110 THE FISK-STOKES TRAGEDY. 

November 10, 1870. 
Enclosed find $300. Please use. I am very sorry we could not have arrived at a 
more satisfactory conclusion last night. I did all I could, and the same feeling pre- 
vails o'er me now. With a careful and watchful manner you should look at all our 
affairs. You should make no mistake. You told me I should hear from you when 
you came to a conclusion. Therefore I wait upon your early reply, and until then I 
must of course pursue the same course I have for the last six weeks. I hope we 
shall mutually understand each other, fq£ the thing could be made, as should be made, 
satisfactory to you. I am yours, - James. 

r>ml* MORE MONEY TO JOSIE. 

Fisk sent $1000 to Josie in November with this memorandum . 

Erie Railway Company, Treasurer's Office, November 7, 1870, receiving desk — $500. 

Wm. H. B. 
Erie Railway Company, Treasurer's Office, November 19, 1870, receiving desk — $500. 

Wm. H. B. 
Please acknowledge receipt. • James. 

November 11, 1870. 
Enclosed you will find the order on Miss Guthrie, which have Etta or you present 
and it will be all right. Mr. Comer gave them an order not to deliver anything only 
on my written order, to stop the " opera bouffers ;" but present this enelosed order 
and it will be all right. Mrs. Reher was here this morning and I gave her transpor- 
tation for self and Michael to Charlestown by steamer. 

Enclosed you will find box at theatre in order to get the same, as it was sold. I 
have convinced myself that I desire you and yours to come. 

Please answer the note, that I may know you are to come. Yours, truly, 

James. 
November 12, 1870. 
Enclosed find the letters. I was not aware Miss Jordan was to come until I saw 
her pass the gate-keeper, but that is nothing astonishing, as she is one of our regular 
customers. Of course I did not send her the box, for she is not in a mood that I 
presume such civilities would be received from Fisk, Jr. I am glad you was pleased. 
I would have been glad to have you seen "Le Petit Faust." At the " Duchesse" 
we used old clothes and scenery, while in " Faust " all was new. We play " Faust " 
this afternoon. Shall I send you a box ? And on Monday night we give the world 
" our diamond," " Les Brigands," all new. 

Surely the world is machinery. Am I keeping up with it ? is the question. 

Yours, truly, James 

FISK's BOYISHNESS 

We now find Fisk completely melted again, and still in love with the 
woman to whom he had written such severe letters. Josie never gave 
him up. She kept in his way. By and by Fisk's love came back by 
degrees, and we now see him writing as fondly as ever : 

November 14, 1870. 
Dear Dolly : — Do you really wish to see a " brigand " at your house to-night ? If 
bo, what hour, or from what hour and how late should I call ? For I might be able 
to come at eight, or perhaps not until ten. Say what hour, and how late is your limit 
after the time you first say. 

November 15, 1870. 
Enclosed find box for to-night. Should you find you cannot use it send it back to 
me later. Do you feel as I said you would this morning ? The box, of course, is for 
whoever you may invite. Yours, ever, James. 

November 16, 18 — . 
Dear Dolly : — Don't feel that way. Go riding, and to-night, darling, I will take 
ou to rest. I shall go out at half-past three, and you can safely look ahead, darling, 
or rest. It will come, and we shall be happy again. Yours, truly, James. 

November 18, 1870. 
Shall go to the race to-day, and this evening I am engaged until late, and I am 
afraid you would get tired waiting for the ring of the bell or the ring of the door. So 
I will not ask you to wait my coming unless it be your wish, in which case I will 
come as early as I can. Yours, etc. 

Enclosed find the Liedunnor Ball, Yours, truly, J. F., Jr. 

Monday Morning 
Not time to come up. ' J. F.. Jb 



I 



THE FISK-MANSFIELD LETTERS. ill 



THE GENUINENESS OF THE LETTERS PUBLISHED IN THIS BOOK 

VINDICATED—THEY ARE THE ENTIRE CORRESPONDENCE-JAY 

GOULD AftD COUNSELLOR SHEARMAN INTERVIEWED. 

Our reporter called on Jay Gould relative to the Fisk-Mansfield letters, 
when the following conversation was had : 

Reporter. — Mr. Gould, did you read the letters carefully which have 
appeared in the newspapers ? 

Mr. Gould.— I did. 

Reporter. — Were they the very letters which Stokes presented, and 
the very letters against the publication of which Colonel Fisk got out 
an injunction? 

Mr. Gould. — They are the very letters. 

Reporter. — Were they all the letters which were covered by the in- 
junction ? 

Mr. Gould. — Yes, all the letters ; I tell you upon my honor that they 
were the same letters and all the letters which Stokes had. 

Reporter. — Were these letters tie. same letters and all the letters which 
were placed in the hands of Peter B. Sweeny for safe keeping ? 

Mr. Gould. — They were. 

Reporter. — But the newspapers say there are also other letters, 

Mr. Gould. — Well let them produce them, then. They can't do it. If 
Stokes has them, let him produce them. 

Our reporter now called on Mr. Shearman, general counsel for the Erie 
Railroad, and a member of Mr. Beecher's church, when this conversation 
ensued : 

Reporter. — Were the letters published all the letters which were handed 
to Mr. Sweeny and written by Colonel Fisk to Josephine Mansfield ? 

Mr. Shearman. — They were, every single letter, so. As Mr. Fisk's 
attorney I will say to Mr. Stokes, the newspapers, or the public, that if 
there exist other letters let them publish thern. But they do not nor 
ever did exist 

THE END. 

The theory of the prosecution in the coming murder trial will probably 
be that, filled with revenge, without money, with his lawyer clamoring 
for pay, Stokes resolved to take summary vengeance on Fisk — to shoot 
the man he could not injure in the courts — to kill the man he could not 
reach through the civil law. 

And so everything must have an 

END. 



••^ ^^^^^^^^w^^ww« 



-Oram* Edition Translated bt 0HA8. F. F. KAYSER, No. 16 North Siyxnvh St., Phila. 




STOKES IN miSON VISITED BY HIS FRIENDS. 
<2tyfe* 1m ©cfdngnifFe t>on fctucn ffrcuntcn bcf:irf>t- 







HELEN JOSEPHINE MANSFIELD. 
$elene Sojepftinr ORanlfielfc. 




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